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Photo-story - Where my bike’s been


StreetCowboy

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I think I must have an out of date calendar in my head, as I was thinking Saturday was the first day of the Lunar New Year holiday; delayed by rain, I set off to Bangsar for my late Public Holiday Pub Lunch, only to find Ronnie Q’s just opening up at 4 pm.  Time being as it was, with a commitment phone the clan in The Old Country at 6, I headed back home, and only later realised - Sunday was the first day, Saturday was not even a holiday, and I could have done some essential shopping…

Sunday saw us heading into KL to take advantage of the sparse traffic, but impending rain saw us keeping close to the pubs, and with it pending heavily all around us, we stopped in a bus shelter on the MRR2 highway.

“There’s nowhere where it looks brighter”

”Desa Park City’s the closest pubs, but TTDI’s not much further”

”We’d have to come out again if we stopped at DPC”

We were supposed to be going a short gentle ride with my buddy’s sister, who is visiting from The Old Country to escape the dismal weather - a pouring monsoon would be a poor escape.  The rain was easing off by the time we got to the pub that was once Sids, and we ordered drink and sat down.  The rain had eased up somewhat.

“Should I message my sister and say we’ll not be riding if it’s still raining at 3?”

”After 2 hours here, we’re not going to want to go on another ride”

”OK.  I’ll wait a while, then tell her to come straight here at 3”

”It might stop raining - send the message now, and don’t suggest a time for coming here”

And a very convivial afternoon was had by all, while I folded up my mileage target for the weekend, and put it in the bin.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Chinese New Year rolled round to Thaipussam, with Federal Territories Day in between, and I squandered all those opportunities to get my mileage up.  My buddy's sister is struggling with the heat and the gradients, and she might be losing enthusiasm - I hope she still has her hunter's instincts about her, as she is charged with rounding up the participants for the FIE Snail Grand Prix, which this year will be coming round next week.  

 

I can't promise the same last-minute sprint as last weekend's Cyclocross World Championships - I can't even confidently promise it will last as long, but if past years are anything to go by, the drama and enthusiasm will only be matched by the volume consumed by the expectators.  

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  • 3 weeks later...

I am less surprised than I am disappointed that there have been so few queries regarding the FIE’s Grand Prix d’Escargots.  I’ll assume that was due to reticent shyness.  If it was lack of interest, resume browsing now.

As you know, my buddy’s sister recruits the competitors with lurid tales of the high life that racers can enjoy, sex, drugs, rock and roll, tracks swimming in beer - whatever snails like to fantasise about.  Sadly, not all snails think the same, and while most of the competitors stayed at the starting circle in what appeared to be a massive orgy, my competitor raced off to the skid pan, almost plummeting over the winning line, until he swerved, throwing up a spray of Tiger, to start off on his victory lap.  “OK - we’ve not got all night. 90 degrees of a victory lap is enough” By that time, some of the other snails were enjoying a post-coital inspection of the race track.

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I’d planned a long ride out to Kuala Selangor on a route you’re all familiar with. Young J bailed out with some feeble excuse, which surprised me, as he’s never attempted Bukit Melawati before; if he had, I would well understand, and would have hoped that he would choose a more inclusive excuse, but I was reticent about saying “Oh! Can I join too?” for a reunion of his old class mates. So my buddy and I set off; “We should take it steady, to save our energy for Bukit Melawati”

”I was trying not to think about that”

When we got there, there was a new tractor-hauled tram loading passengers at a pay booth at the bottom of the hill, almost blocking the road,  and as I cycled past, the security guard cried out “No! Cannot!” 
“Cannot cycle up?”

”no, cannot…”

”Excellent!” And I turned back and we sped off before he could explain the options available to us.

We’d benefitted from a tail wind all the way there, and I was glad that the way home would be shorter, at least in terms of kilometres. And flatter, too, had I not compounded error upon misjudgement to find ourselves climbing the first three steepest humps of The Dragons Back.

I looked at the map, and opted for the potentially hazardous DASH highway home; it would be shorter, and flatter, than the older ground-level roads, but I was nervous that it might not be as safe as last time, now that it was open to traffic.  I should have worried less about the cars and more about the headwind, and it was an arduous battle into the breeze, with two stops for a bit of a rest in the space of 20 km.  I was grateful to get to the final ramp down to the LDP highway, and battled my way through two pints of cider before I could speak.

”Kuala Selangor’s too far”

”Kuala Selangor was ok - it was the way home that was too far”

”Aye, but you’ve no choice but to cycle home”

 

 

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I’ve signed us up for an organised “fun ride” organised by KL Police 9-11 pm on Saturday 18 March.

”How are we going to rehydrate at that time? The pubs will be closing!”

”I don’t fancy Bukit Bintang on a Saturday night with my bike, though we can take the bikes on the MRT to get home… but I reckon the last train home from there is about 11:30…”

”There’s no way I can drink that fast!”

”OK - we’ll make it ‘Bike with the Bill’ rather than ‘Cruise with the Coppers’, we’ll not hang about, and head on as soon as we finish, and aim to get to our usual haunts around 11 pm.”

”I love it when a plan comes together”

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Did I mention that a few weeks back, after I’d washed my bike, the rear bearing started clicking something dreadful; I blamed that on the water we’d been through, but I took it into the shop, and he replaced the bearings.

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well, after the long ride to Kuala Selangor, and a couple of other rainy rides, I washed the bike, and the clicking noise has come back.  My buddy and I opened up the bearing, packed it with as much grease as it would hold, and had a look at the wear on the cones; the drive side cone is quite marked, and if I assume that the cup is the same, then a new hub is on the cards.  Anyway the grease deadened the clicking, which now comes back intermittently. The shop didn’t have a suitable replacement hub, and I think it will be easier - and cheaper - to get a new wheel.  The wheel is original - 36,000 km old, and it has not been pampered.

Anyway, this is my bike after the last visit to the shop, while I enjoy my dinner.  As you know, at Loco the same waiter covers the outside tables and the drive-through business.

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On 3/12/2023 at 7:12 PM, ravip said:

The wheel is original - 36,000 km old...

 

One question,  please. How do you keep track of your km's?

I use Strava.  I also have a spreadsheet tracker where I record weekly mileage, and any maintenance, so I should know when I last replaced my chain n etc.

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Our Cycle With The Cops ride went as well as could reasonably be hoped for, bar accidentally stopping my Strava recording when I took photos of the massed start.  If I could see the pipe band, I’d have taken photos of them.  
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The start was hampered by the inflatable portal collapsing when they ran the ticker tape blowers off the same air pump, and any start with >2,000 riders is going to take a while to get going.

2,000 people cycling through KL city centre on a Saturday night is bound to cause a bit of disruption, but when it’s organised by the Police, to whom are you going to complain?

“So it’s clear the police have no problem with cyclists going through red lights…”; though we did not rely on that precedent for the ride home.

I had ridden into town in the afternoon to pick up the jerseys, and to check the route to and from the start.  My buddy suffered a broken gear cable on the way into town, but luckily he rides with a spare, and fifteen minutes at the side of the highway avoided arriving too early at the start line.  It did mean we were not near the front row of the starting grid…

Once the ride got started, riders got more spread out, and we did our best to keep the pace up.  Those are roads you can’t normally ride at 30+ kph because of traffic and traffic lights.  We were stopped by traffic at Bukit Bintang five km from the finish,  but we had our finishing medals shortly after ten.  After a brief pause, it was back on the road.  Pubs here are closing at midnight, generally, so we concluded that we should stop at the nearest of our regular haunts, and just managed to squeeze in five before they brought down the shutters.  
So the only disappointment was that I had lost the Strava data from the start of the Police ride until we got to the pub through operator error, and my buddy had made a similar error, losing data from the end of the police ride to the final hill before the pub. So you’ll just have to take my word that it was a fair brisk ride, once we got going.

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On 3/13/2023 at 6:58 PM, StreetCowboy said:

I use Strava.  I also have a spreadsheet tracker where I record weekly mileage, and any maintenance, so I should know when I last replaced my chain n etc.

 

What is your user name on Strava?

 

I tried searching for StreetCowboy but no joy.

 

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On 3/13/2023 at 6:58 PM, StreetCowboy said:

I use Strava.  I also have a spreadsheet tracker where I record weekly mileage, and any maintenance, so I should know when I last replaced my chain n etc.

 

I think most of us cyclists have mild OCD to varying degrees.  ????

 

I upload my rides to the Garmin website which automatically links to Strava.

 

However, I also maintain a spreadsheet to monitor the wear rate on my tyres, chain etc.

 

It also calculates what my average distance should be for each of my remaining rides in order to reach my monthly goal.

 

 

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I offered our Visiting Consultant from the Netherlands a ride over the weekend - not that I was worried about him having trouble with withdrawal symptoms, and the fear that not being in his bike for a week he might go into a local coffee shop gasping for hash - no, it just seemed like a chance to show off our city while he was idle over the weekend.

It might have been nicer if it hadn’t rained, but the rain was never so heavy that it would have been safer to stop, and he’s Dutch!

I took him the length of the village next to where I live, past the office and round a few suburbs and lunch at the char kway teow stand. He’s volunteered to join us again tomorrow, so I am not the only one that thinks my shopping bike is still riding nicely.  I am not sure of a nice countryside ride within comfortable range on the shopping bike, so maybe we’ll just rake round almost Rawang, and he can see the countryside from the highways

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On 3/25/2023 at 9:58 PM, StreetCowboy said:

I offered our Visiting Consultant from the Netherlands a ride over the weekend - not that I was worried about him having trouble with withdrawal symptoms, and the fear that not being in his bike for a week he might go into a local coffee shop gasping for hash - no, it just seemed like a chance to show off our city while he was idle over the weekend.

It might have been nicer if it hadn’t rained, but the rain was never so heavy that it would have been safer to stop, and he’s Dutch!

I took him the length of the village next to where I live, past the office and round a few suburbs and lunch at the char kway teow stand. He’s volunteered to join us again tomorrow, so I am not the only one that thinks my shopping bike is still riding nicely.  I am not sure of a nice countryside ride within comfortable range on the shopping bike, so maybe we’ll just rake round almost Rawang, and he can see the countryside from the highways

His arms are as red as Miss Riding Hood’s gloves now.  He reckoned 75 km was the longest he’d ever ridden, but compared to mountain biking, it was easy.

Anyway, he gave up before the hard part, and had one pint of cider then switched to lemon and lime.

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  • 2 weeks later...

I think I never mentioned that our railway fully opened last month, and with the end of the free rides (there’s nothing better than a hundred thousand freeloaders for finding defects) but this weekend it was not too busy to take a ride with the bikes on Sunday.  We had a look at the fancy bike rack

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(I could not find the instructional poster telling people to park perpendicular to the rack not parallel, but as you can see, one side is for motorbikes, one side for cycles.  The motorbike sign has a red line across it for emphasis

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Kuchai station is a difficult station to drive to, thanks to confusing highways all around it, but luckily, the only safe road goes right past the station.  Situated as it is on waste ground between highways, and next to a big power distribution yard, there is plenty of room for park’n’ride car parks.  I’d rather have stations people could go to, rather than cars…

On my way to work on Tuesday, I thought I should put my headlamp flashing as a lot of people think part of the route is one way, when it is not. In fact, the problem occurred further up, where the road is clearly bi-directional, and I encountered a car driver on the wrong side of the road to avoid queuing with the traffic.  I could see that the driver had seen me, and I pulled into the middle of my lane to show that a close pass was not an option. I refused to pass him on my right - his left - into the path of the coming motorcyclists, and I pulled up in front of him when he refused to get back in his lane to allow me to proceed

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I had to wait a couple of minutes for him to reverse, and head over to his own lane, until I could pass.

Personally, I blame Waze for plotting routes for motorists that are unsuitable for traffic , and that will be congested by the time that they get there.

If he has now learnt to drive on the left, we will all be safer.

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I went out for a quick fang round my suburb this evening, just to keep my mileage up.  I’d specifically waited till after sunset, when the majority would be buka puasa, to take advantage of the low traffic - forgetting about the Food Panda riders on their second delivery - is someone else’s dinner worth dying for? And I got to thinking, if you had an urgent delivery,  would you rather give it to the SAS, Tom Cruise, Valentino Rossi, Jason Statham or a Food Panda rider?  I’d struggle to choose between the Food Panda rider or Valentino Rossi; Valentino’s age counts in his favour - you don’t want your essential delivery scattered over the tarmac the wrong side of a red light…

That thought took me as far as the turn onto the Sprint Highway, where a kind car driver left ample space for me to merge with traffic.  I went all the way to the end of my suburb, where I came upon a ‘ghost rider’ on a motorbike with no lights, but he turned into the cemetery; “fair enough”, I thought, “If he’s not returning home then he’s learning the route for his final journey”.  I’d not really planned my route all the way through, and with low but not sparse traffic, the turning off the main road Jalan Damansara into TTDI is potentially hazardous, but nothing that cannot be addressed with reckless abandon and remarkable good fortune.  Village driving is the norm in TTDI, and I try always to acknowledge when that results in courteous consideration, and I saluted the driver who waited patiently before turning, though I thought he could reasonably turned ahead of me.

It must be tough for the Food Panda riders, sitting idle and fasting all day, then a surge of deliveries just when it’s time to Buka Puasa.  And they’ve got to earn a day’s wage in the space of an hour, all with low blood sugar and possibly dehydrated.

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  • 2 weeks later...

To celebrate the end of the Holy Month of Ramadan, I took a spin down by the railway to investigate some complaints about fencing, fully anticipating a swashbuckling encounter with the likes of the late Douglas Fairbanks, or Errol Flynn, or some other monochromatic swashbuckling hero of the past.  My disappointment was none the less for it being completely expected; personally, I would prefer my property to be protected by Zorro’s Flashing Blade rather than stranded barbed wire, but The Corporation takes a less flamboyant view.

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On the way, I’d passed by my buddy’s house to pass over some new tyres (I have no pictures of the tyres, but you can Google Schwalbe Duranos for yourself) and to while away a few minutes of idle banter - we’ll timed to make sure I returned from my fencing excurSion at precisely beer o clock, and time for a pub lunch.

I had misnavigated my way home to find myself on the DUKE highway, but with the light holiday traffic it was tedious rather than terrifying.  The headwind up there is stronger than at ground level, and when I’d had enough I came back down to traffic light level to ride under the highway until we both joined the LDP for the last few km home.  Or near enough home.

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  • 2 weeks later...

My road bike is in the shop for a service, new chain and cassette, so I was out on the shopping bike this Sunday.  I’ve still not got round to fitting a bag, pump, tool, spare tube etc., and maybe my thinking of that was the trigger to suffering the first puncture in 1800 km on the way home.  There was impending rain, so I advised my buddy, Captain Oates-like, “You carry on without me - I’ll walk to the station”.  I might have been better walking back to the station where we had just crossed the highway, but that would have involved changing trains at the next station; and it’s always hard to set off walking away from home.  A motorcyclist offered to help, if I had a spare tube (I did not) or to give me a lift, but I was not happy about carrying my bike over my shoulder on the back of a motorbike - and it was only a kilometre to the next station.  I got there dry, but the train soon ran into torrential rain. My local station has no entrances; you have a choice of coming out into the shopping centre, or into the bus interchange some distance away in the wrong direction.  I was slightly surprised to get no grief from security guards as I wheeled my bike through the shopping centre.  It was still tipping down stair-rods as I emerged, and, as mentioned by our Consultant, there is no footpath route through the junction under the highway.  By this time, the road was flooded ankle-deep, and my mood had changed from sanguine to surly.   Luckily, for a lot of the route I could walk under cover in the 6-foot way, but in Kuala Lumpur, they involves a lot of steps and other obstacles.

My buddy had been in the pub for more than a pint when I arrived, but he too had got caught in the stair-rods for the last couple of km.

 

The puncture was quickly repaired this morning, due to a small glass fragment.  And tomorrow I will attach an emergency bag, which I should’ve done months ago…

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 To celebrate the coronation of His Majesty Charles III, I had planned a 111 km ride via The Monkey Road to Batu Arang, and then plantation roads beyond Ijok.

On the lovely hill after Batu Arang, I was doing about 60 kph when I saw the cows emerging from the plantation, and about 40 when we collided.  Apparently the cow landed on top of me.  I was sitting at the side of the road when I recovered consciousness, having spent the preceding ten minutes asking what happened.  I’d have asked “Where am I?”, but I’m the navigator so I ought to know. When I remembered we’d been to Batu Arang, not Rawang, things began to become clear. My buddy helped clear up the debris, straightened my handlebars and we set off prematurely homeward.  We stopped at the first service station to wash off the worst of the blood, and inspect the damage to my helmet.

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We came back down the main road to Sungai Buloh and took the train from there.  I was happy to see train 12 was out and about, after getting its wheels turned, and quiet as a church mouse.

By now, I was stiffening up “Maybe it’s rigorous mortis - you look like something from The Zombie Apocalypse” - nothing that six pints of cider wouldn’t… cure would be the wrong word… six pints of cider wouldn’t mask.   I was sore when I woke up this morning.

So now I’m waiting to get my cuts and bruises looked by a professional

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  • 2 weeks later...

I was still stiff and sore this weekend, so we had a gentle ride up and down the Federal Highway bike lane.  My concussion seems to have affected my alertness, as, on the way to the start, I missed a red light until I was past it and half-way across the junction, realising I was wrongly watching the left filter light. The third and fourth cars stopped to allow me to sail through, waving apologetically.

Later in the ride, I was lucky to escape riding over a monitor lizard I had not noticed sunbathing in the road - he and I were both grateful for his quick reactions as he scuttled off into the verge.

My back is still sore from the previous week’s collision, but the grazes are healing up nicely, and my admiration for professionals who can jump straight back on the bike and finish the race has risen immensely.

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On 5/1/2018 at 9:26 AM, StreetCowboy said:

Outside the pub, on the way home after picking up the new shopping bike.  I thought it was important that the bike knew where the pub was, and also that it knew the way home from there, in case I ever forgot.

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Is the bike a heavy drinker? Looking at those empty saddle-bags, I'd say not. You might wanna chuck a courtesy-can in there to keep it cool, each time you leave the pub. Just sayin'.

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On 5/8/2023 at 9:03 AM, StreetCowboy said:

 

I was doing about 60 kph when I saw the cows emerging from the plantation, and about 40 when we collided.  Apparently the cow landed on top of me.  

 

 

Was the cow okay?

 

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2 hours ago, marty147 said:

 

Was the cow okay?

 

As far as I know it was fine, it got up and trotted off with not a word of complaint.  They were all long gone by the time I figured out where I was.
 

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  • 2 weeks later...

Last Sunday I’d arranged a late lunch appointment at Bar Roca, and planned a ride back from Cheras via Ampang Lookout, taking the train to our start point.  When I did the detailed route check on Google, I realised we’d be arriving at the pub too early, and probably half-blootered before anyone else turned up; so we cycled through KL, and only jumped on the train for a few stops to skip the scariest highway junctions.  Since it was a fastest time for me up Ampang Lookout, I guess I am largely recovered from my mishap, though it still does not feel that way.  We did get to the pub in good time, and had not long sat down when others arrived.

We were on the train for the third week in a row, cycling out to the start of the new line, and riding all the way to the end in the Federal Capital before cycling home.  The ride was pretty uneventful, the train ride was smooth enough - less drama than the National Curriculum!

 

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  • 4 weeks later...

I was back in The Old Country, and when I returned, urgent issues arose,  so I’ve not been miling the mileage like I normally mile, so this evening after work I stopped past Atrium for dinner, including food. It’s not far from there home, but no journey is so short that you can’t stop on the wayDCD6BC39-E18C-4691-AF79-C0D917D7D53B.thumb.jpeg.496557eeec367af45afb948d52b8c43e.jpeg

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  • 2 weeks later...

I was surfing Strava and our ex-project Director had posted a great time up one of the hardest climbs I know.  I sent a message of commendation , and he replied “I’ve lost 6 kg since last time, and I could do it without stopping”.  I was on the brink of replying “that’s enough to make me cut back on drink”, but it isn’t, so I didn’t .

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I thought I’d pop over to The Pig for a non-halal dinner, and took a slight detour for the sake of the mileage.  As I was coming back through my neighbouring suburb, I came across a bunch of about 12 cyclists, illegally cycling two or three abreast and spilling out of their lane.  There were 3 or 4 car drivers waiting at the traffic lights where we turned left, and they took up substantially more of the road. Why can’t car drivers drive in single file?

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  • 2 weeks later...

As I mentioned elsewhere, the shopping bike is in the Spokery for Spoking, so I have resorted to using the old mountain bike for shopping and commuting, rather than refitting the back rack to the road (cyclocross) bike. 
As you know, the mountain bike is too small for me, but I can get by with the seat post over-extended, and it has a comfy lady's saddle fitted, which is not ideal for putting the power down on the fast part of the commute home through the suburbs.   And there's no denying that it weighs a ton.  But the gears are absolutely magic - with big and little thumb shifters that just click into place like bullets fired from a gun.  
I've not gone as far as transferring the front basket mount from the shopping bike, though I was tempted - it was on the mountain bike previously,  But for the time being, I am persevering with one pannier only for shopping.  I have been assured that the shopping bike wheel will be repaired by Saturday.  I would have my fingers crossed, except that would interfere with operating the brake levers.

 

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