StreetCowboy

A bold endeavour! There’s nothing that gives you a thirst more than a few bevvies, bar maybe an excess. Back in the day, I’d go to the pub for my dinner, maybe a couple more, pop down to see Cliff or HankMarvin in the Reef, and then flag a taxi into town to get into trouble. I’m older, sadder, and maybe wiser now, The Reef has closed, and taxis are few and far between in these Grab days.

I would describe myself as robust rather than humungeous, and they’re 32 spoke wheels. I’ve not even been loading up two cases of beer, due to the slightly narrower carrier compared to the previous shopping bike. That bike also suffered from broken spokes… Anyway, the rear wheel is in the shop, the bike is up on the stand, I cycled my road bike into the office today with a backpack, and recommissioned the mountain bike to cycle across to the pub for dinner and to buy milk and beer from the supermarket next door.

I’ve pretty much had enough of broken spokes. As you know, I respoked the wheel of my old shopping bike shortly before it’s careless loss, and replaced it a few months later. I fixed one broken spoke at my expense on the replacement, and took the bike back to Giant to fix two more under warranty within the year. In the last three months, it has accumulated three more, and I have pretty much had enough of it. Anyone that blames my tremendous - possibly excessively - manly figure had better be prepared to break into a run if they say that to my face. Anyway, I’ve had enough of broken spokes, and I am swithering between completely respioking the wheel or swapping the cassette with my mountain bike wheel….

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?

For motivating songs, Ivor Cutler's "I'm Happy" takes some beating.

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 .

That is a really interesting question. For me, as a monotheist, I would expect God, in his omniscient omnipotence, to have everyone’s interests in mind, regardless of the self-interested blathering of the tonsured or the beardy As a polytheist, one would need to direct your pleas to the relevant authority, whether it be the God of Mechanical Travel, TinnHau, Goddess of Mercy to Travellers and those upon the Sea, or Lord Guan, god of justice and rigorous adherence to rules, as well as patron of both the police force and triads. As a Buddhist, I am sceptical that any plea for intervention might help, and the best that you might wish that whatever mishap might afflict you, you can address with stoic fortitude knowing that you are repaying previous errors and storing karma for a future life. God looks after the careful; the devil can find opportunities for the careless.

Travelators should be safe for use by the stupid, the badly laden, intoxicated etc. there is no requirement for a minimum level of competence for riding a travelator, unlike controlling a 2-tonne high speed vehicle in the public street, for which a minimum competence is expected. Staying alert, controlling your baggage and looking where you are going is always good advice, but regardless of any contribution of the victim, the travelator comb plate should have ensured safety from major incident.

My replacement front wheel (purchased in 2016 to replace a twisted rim on my road bike following a mishap) is an acknowledged barsteward of the first order for replacing tubes and tyres. So I relegated that wheel to my mountain bike, which was rarely used by my dearly beloved (the frame is too small for me, but That didn’t stop me putting in several thousand km back in the day) and occasionally by my buddy’s sister, when she visits. After the last loan, the tyre went flat; my buddy fixed it - and again, before returning the bike in good Nick; and the tyre deflated. My buddy took this as an affront to his manhood, and asked that I let him resolve the problem. Some weeks later, he says I can collect the wheel, but if it suffers a puncture in the future, scrap the wheel and keep the tyre. Schwalbe Marathons rarely suffer punctures on the road, but they’re not easy to fit - especially on that wheel.

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 way

That's not how you spell 'penile code'

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!

Tilting your bike is a struggle when you have two cases of beer lashed to the rack, and it is a struggle to clear the beer cases as you lift your leg over. Putting one case in each pannier balances the load, but because they have to be clear behind your heels, the panniers move the centre of gravity to far back and the bike becomes uncontrollably rear-heavy when you tilt it. This can be alleviated by putting a couple of six-packs in the front basket.

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.

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.

The chain is brand new; the chain wheel has 18000 I’m on it. When I checked my notes, my previous chain wheel lasted 19000 km before I upgraded my group set to hydraulic brakes. I reckon a lot of the chain wheel wear happened in the last couple of thousand km; I was told this chain did not need replacing at 5000 km, but maybe I should’ve replaced it anyway, on the basis that it would definitely want replaced before 7500 km.

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. 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

Thanks! I had a look through my notes - this is my third chain since putting a new groupset on my bike, with approximate mileages 5,000 km 5,000 km 8,000 km, so I reckon a lot of the wear happened in the last couple of thousand km. I suffered a similar problem when I replaced my chain on my old shopping bike after about 5,000 km - the shop did not have a cassette in stock - so I bought a cassette at Decathlon. I guess I will just have to quarantine the big chain wheel until a replacement arrives.

My road bike went in for service, and I picked it up this morning, with its new handlebars, bar tape, gear cables and more relevantly, chain and cassette. It’s an 11-32 in lieu of the 11-28, so I was worried about the small - small. Some adjustment, and that was ok; the mechanic had warned me that the big chain wheel teeth were worn, and since the service the chain has started occasionally slipping under load - particularly big chain wheel to small cogs, no problem with small chain wheel. Based on prior experience, I asked the mechanic to tighten the rear derailleur tension, and I tinkered with the rear derailleur adjustment, which may or may not have improved, but not eliminated the problem. Any suggestions for optimisation, while I await a new chain wheel? I did not suffer chain slip before the service - problem may be new chain, old chain wheel

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…

If your job is shaking hands, then your wage-payer comes second

Some people look on the Salvation Army as charity - I see it as something between insurance and investment.

The girls in the bars are not there for their own pleasure, but for their survival, and to look after their children. We can waste their time, or buy ladies' drinks to help them get by, or pass them money directly. My preference is to make sure that they are OK, and that they don't resent me as a cheapskate, in case - through drink or misjudgement - I ever come to rely upon their goodwill.

I would not be happy with one of my hosts being attacked

If I can be permitted a minor digression, I was working back in the day in Manchester, and, as you know, there was a ... as I tell this, I am wondering about the crediility of the story ... anyway, there was a hardware store at the approach to Picadilly Station, and perhaps I had gone there in my lunch hour, because for sure i recall the subsequent conversation as taking place at Oxford Road.... Anyway, with a bit of Errol Flynn fencing planned for the weekend, I had picked up a sledgehammer on my way home, and as I went down to the platform to be met with an announcement of train delays, a wag in the crowd cried out ":Steady on, mate, it's not that late!". Happy days, made happier by the selectiveness of our memories...