Photo-story - Where my bike’s been

[KhunLA]

3 minutes ago, StreetCowboy said:

That’s a tremendous photo - and an eminently practical bike.

It's an e-bike now, used a conversion kit with 1000w motor

[StreetCowboy]

I had planned to go to the walk-in vaccination centre for my COVID booster jab at our company in-town office, and I was quite looking forward to the ride there, when I received a government vaccination email saying I was auto-booked into a local clinic for a booster in my suburb.  I cycled into town past the. Office anyway last Saturday, since it is such a nice ride, through the Chinese cemetery overlooking the city, then past the Nirvanha furnaces, which have residential waiting rooms nearby, outside which there are stray dogs that give you a bit of a chase.  I did not see any of them gnawing on bones, and I am trying not to imagine it.

I had intended to cancel my Sunday ride, out of fear of vaccine side effects, but in light of the delay to the vaccination, my buddy and I set off on what could have been a hundred km.

Luckily I picked up a puncture - a twisted nail that looked for all the world like someone had bent it to lie point upwards.  We patched the tube, but that didn’t hold, and replaced it after a couple of km.

I used that as an excuse to stop for chapattis; luckily it started to tip down stair rods, and we ordered more chapattis, as they were only small.  And we could reasonably turn homeward without getting to the pub too early…

[StreetCowboy]

13 minutes ago, KhunLA said:

It's an e-bike now, used a conversion kit with 1000w motor

1000 W motor must be quite scarey…

[StreetCowboy]

So I’d cancelled this weekend’s Sunday ride in anticipation of vaccine side effects, and set out on my lonesome Todd to get a few km on Saturday morning.  The plan I’d left the house with would have seen me over the hill at the back of Damansara Perdana, through the construction hoardings and over the Jerry-bridge to Sri Damansara, through the gravel at the furniture showroom, kampung roads and residential roads then another motorcycle gravel cut to Sungai Buloh, and ultimately to Johnny’s My Bicycle Shop, though I forget how I could get from there to Johnnys. It doesn’t matter; the hill through the village told me that neither of my legs were in favour of Damansara Perdana hill, and I did  not bother arguing, so I took the flat, busy roads. I was a bit sheepish in the shop, as there was really nothing that I wanted.  I asked in vain if they could help find a tandem for Tandemonium Twosday next month, and headed off, looking for a different route home.  From there, it’s a straight forward ride onto Guthrie Highway, at two convenient junctions, but en route, I got distracted, and meandered into the future urban sprawl.  I suppose I should have taken pictures of the empty tarmac roads and empty factory lots either side, but I was soon able to find some further future developments

The dirt roads take it out of you, and I was glad it was just a few km before back on the highway bike lanes, and eventually home.  But the hardest part was still to come … cycling past the pub, in anticipation of my vaccination booster in the afternoon.  Luckily, I was in and out like a burglar, and sat in the pub minutes later.

[StreetCowboy]

Last Sunday we were off into the smallest, steepest hills I could find, on very quiet crack roads. I knew what to expect - or so I thought, having ridden the road before in both directions, and I knew I had to hammer it to carry as much momentum into the next hill… 

I was slightly surprised I was still going so fast approaching the crest, thinking about the junction ahead, possible cars on either side, the next desce…

#!@* !

Invisible speed bump!

I was thrown off the bike and landed back on it, thinking “this is far to fast to hit the ground”; I don’t think my hands were still on the handlebars, I was veering all over the road, but luckily it was a few metres further up the slope when I went down, and there was no traffic coming as I slid into the cross roads.  The handlebars were twisted on the steerer, both brake levers twisted in, some minor scrapes and grazes, but no running blood, and glasses still intact.  
I walked up the next hill.

I soldiered on through the second half of the ride, but was grateful for some feeble excuses to shorten it by a few kilometres.  Luckily, Sid’s had barrels of anaesthetic in stock, and my sore head in the morning masked any other ailments.

[StreetCowboy]

It’s a five-day weekend for Chinese New Year, so my buddy and I took the opportunity of a city ride in the quiet traffic, then back along the Middle Ring Road 2 highway.

”That was just as scarey as driving it in a car!”

We had arranged to meet his sister afterwards for a short ride; I was suffering, and as I reviewed the route back through our suburb, I thought “Let’s take the High Road; I’m not sure I’d be able to cycle past the pub.”  It was a long 15 km for the last section, and I was glad it was small roads.  My buddy raced ahead to burn off excess energy - I began to panic when I got to the pub and didn’t see him sitting outside … “What if he’s raced to the toilet and not ordered the drinks yet?”

Luckily, he was sat inside with iced water and ciders all round.  By the time I’d necked them both, I was able to speak.

”one more round”

[StreetCowboy]

I’d gone shopping for various things - shoes, gloves, bar tape, with only partial success, and I think the Tiger next door to Bike Artisans was the highlight of the day; reasonably priced, and fully to spec.

The new bar tape was quite striking when new, but I suspect it will show the grime soon; if that means I change it before it smells as bad as the old stuff, maybe no bad thing…

That weekend saw the highlight of the sporting calendar -Le Grand Prix dEscargots.

 

 

Trust me; there’s only so much drama and excitement you can take.    This year was fast, dynamic - frantic, even, compared to previous years that could be described as tactical; strategic; subtle; pedestrian; patient; tedious; somniferous… we can thank ADA for it, after ensuring that Alcohol and Drugs targets were met by liberally smearing the track with Tiger.

We’re suffering another cider drought just now (“is there any point cycling if you’re going to go home thirsty?”) and we may have to resort to bottles or cans.  Desperate times, desperate measures…

[StreetCowboy]

I’m not going to start a new thread…

I’d cycled into work, and I was meeting Dr K later for a drink.  I fanged it down the highway and through the tunnel and down the Sprint to the pub, and I was on top of the world that I’d arrived on time; but that’s not the kind of thirst that three or four pints will slake.

We had no choice but to part ways when the pub closed, and some way into my ride home I took a tumble. A kind gentleman gave me a lift home,  but I have no idea what I did with the bike.  Retracing my steps the next day, and local enquiries proved fruitless. I checked the condo cctv, reported to the police, and queried his contact number; surprisingly, they gave it to me.  Unfortunately, he won’t answer calls or respond to messages.  But I’m not going to start a thread “Where’s my bike gone?”

[StreetCowboy]

I was obviously distraught about the loss of the shopping bike, beyond the simple loss of the bike.  I can cycle to work on the road bike, I have a rack for it - but it’s not the same; anyway, I’ve been moping round the bike shops, and on my way to USJ Cycles, I popped into a few other shops. None could offer any more than the first, who suggested - Try Giant, at SS2. So after a disappointing ride, I detoured via SS2/75.  The salesman offered me disappointment, but I insisted on dogged perseverance.

”I want a hybrid bike”

”Don’t have your size”

”That one.  Do you have in Large? ML?  OK, put the seat post to its maximum extension… That’ll do.” 
 

[KhunLA]

[StreetCowboy]

1 hour ago, KhunLA said:

That looks like a grand day out for your bike and you.  Do you cheekily burn off the scooters  at the lights with your motor?  Roll up, silently looking down, then  open it up a moment before the lights turn green… does the battery move the centre of gravity forward enough to avoid an uncontrollable wheelie?

[StreetCowboy]

We took the Closed Road to Rawang. Google Maps would have us believe it was blocked at the gate at the entry to Sime Darby land, but I was sceptical, as previously it had been blocked at the top by the Great Wall of Rawang, and a ditch to boot.  But sure enough, the Sime Darby barrier was down - a trivial limbo challenge, and two lads on motorbikes assured us we could not get through.  I tried to explain that we would go as far as we could, and return; I am fairly sure they did not understand, and I hope they did not wait for us to come back…

the road is quite overgrown now it’s no longer in use, and I speculated that in a couple of years it would be quite impassable.

More like a couple of kilometres…

A timber barrier saw us take a dirt diversion into the plantation

which was heavy going, and I regretted not recognising the return path to the road until after we’d turned back at the farm fence.  600 m of soft red tin clay is hard going, and 600 m back is worse.

The Great Wall was less of a barrier than I remembered, though still enough to block the Mongol hordes of motorcyclists and fly tippers.

The road was in better condition on the far side, and only sparsely littered with construction debris and other waste, and you’re soon down to the main road, where the traffic is crawling along, making it easy to boldly ride across for the right turn.

We were a bit short on kilometres, so we took the longer highway route back,   That avoided Templer Hill but I was still grateful to get to the pub, and we only just made it for 3.30 pm.

[StreetCowboy]

I’d forgotten to charge my phone on Saturday night, so I had to rely on my buddy’s data for Sunday’s ride to the seaside; and for the same reason, no photos.

We kept a good pace, though I was struggling with the headwind as we got close to the sea - but the way home seemed like downhill for the first half - except where we had to negotiate the road construction; they must have been on Ramadan mid-morning prayer break on the outward leg but we had to weave around workers and machinery heading homeward.
Despite the new destination, the navigation was pretty close to the planned route.  I’d explained to my buddy that the previous week while bike shopping I’d got a fastest time on How High Is That Viaduct; it’s a busy road, and our normal entry from KESAS Highway sees us negotiating three lane changes outward across diverging traffic, but from USJ (or from Putra Heights, like Sunday) you are same lane all the way. He took advantage, and hammered it up the viaduct; I took advantage, and coasted as far as I could before dropping to the small chain wheel for the final slog.

Anyway, because I was sharing his data, I now have a bogus Personal Best, and I am going to have to go back and beat that.  Maybe I’ll sneak out early on Saturday, while everyone is calorie-loading for their Ramadan Fast; depending on how Friday night goes, Inshallah…

[StreetCowboy]

I didn’t get up early to set a new PB on How High Is That Viaduct, but even if I had, my plans had changed.  I thought I’d have a go at all the steep little hills in this side of town.

 

But I got up slightly late for an early morning ride, and didn’t feel up to anything strenuous until later, and took a gentler hilly route.  Still lovely roads, a couple of kilometres from KL Sentral

[StreetCowboy]

My road bike was gasping for a servicing, and before Hari Raya, I’d checked that KSH could turn it round from dropping off on a Monday night to collection on a Saturday morning… After our conversation on Monday night, I am less optimistic.

Ne’er mind, this coming weekend we’re going watermelon-scrumping, for which the big basket on the new shopping bike is the preferred option.  
You may recall a few weeks back we  rampaged beyond the Great Wall Of Rawang, and saw what might have been young watermelons, or gooseberries…. So on Sunday they should be ripe…

I am looking forward to the day with the same expectation, optimism and trepidation that I view any Scotland football match “Without the bitter disappointment, the sweet anticipation would be like eating only half a gooseberry”.

I invited a couple of local lads to join us, but they have not confirmed… how anyone could decline a wild watermelon scrumping trip, almost entirely on tarmac road, I don’t understand.  His wife could attend their daughters’ wedding on his behalf, and he’d be there by the start of the reception, albeit slightly sweaty and severely blootered, if past weekends are a precedent.

[StreetCowboy]

The melon-scrumping adventure was all I’d anticipated, and 66 km on the new shopping bike is quite enough.

the road was slightly more overgrown than our last trip

Though unfortunately the “melons” were not.

 

Disheartened, but never thwarted, we turned for home, and good fortune in the form of Pasar Segar smiled upon us

and we were able to celebrate MelonDay with Saint Rongbow, the patron saint of cycling

[StreetCowboy]

A younger colleague has followed my cycling exploits and gone to the extent of buying hisself a bike - perhaps he aspires to a life of degenerate alcoholism - and I said he could join us on our ride this Sunday.  It will be a gentle 40 km starting as usual from the station - Young J will be arriving on the train with his bike - and we’ll head off to Bar Roca.

My buddy commented on the plans “I’m not sure I’ll have enough of a thirst by 40 km”

”You can always just watch”

I am guessing he’ll be out at 0700 for a bonus 100 km towards his thirst.

[StreetCowboy]

On 5/26/2022 at 9:15 PM, StreetCowboy said:

A younger colleague has followed my cycling exploits and gone to the extent of buying hisself a bike - perhaps he aspires to a life of degenerate alcoholism - and I said he could join us on our ride this Sunday.  It will be a gentle 40 km starting as usual from the station - Young J will be arriving on the train with his bike - and we’ll head off to Bar Roca.

My buddy commented on the plans “I’m not sure I’ll have enough of a thirst by 40 km”

”You can always just watch”

I am guessing he’ll be out at 0700 for a bonus 100 km towards his thirst.

We all met down at the station, where some cycling activists were trying to promote utility cycling, with support from the Mass Rapid Transit Corp. By the time I got there, my buddy had been roped into providing a basic maintenance tasks demo.  As I parked my bike up, I got chatting to a French bloke who queried if I thought cycling in Malaysia was safe; “No problem” I assured him.  “Cycling is not dangerous at all; some of the car drivers are a bit dangerous, though”. I assured him that Sunday drivers were much more courteous and thoughtful than during the week.

 

Anyway, we set off with Young J, a loop round Kota Damansara which eight years ago was the limit of my range, up past Tropicana golf club, Sleepy Hollow LRT depot, on to the road past the old airport, and if you go too far, you merge in between three lanes of traffic on your left coming from the North South Highway, and three lanes on your right belting down the airport highway. I realised we had missed our turning, and held my hand up, called out “Stopping!” And braked. At first, I didn’t realise what had happened, as J took a tumble behind me after touching wheels.  He was back on the bike in a moment, as we straightened his brake levers, and took it all in good spirits.  We retraced our steps a hundred metres, back to the entry to the Highway, where, immediately before the toll booths, you can swing into the Highway Offices, then through an underpass, a petrol station, a light industrial estate and a condo car park, and before you can say “Where the f### are you going?” You’re at the Kelana Jaya Stadium, where they used to play the rugby internationals.

I took a new route through PJ - not strictly true, I deviated from a new route through PJ, but never thwarted, we were soon at the pub as planned.  Young J was struggling with his third pint of cider, and after a spell shouting for Huey on the big white telephone, we concurred with the bar staff that Grab was a safer option than taking the train home. Knocked off his bike, and poisoned, but cheerful to the end “He’s welcome to come back!”  

[StreetCowboy]

I cycled into the office today to celebrate World Bike Day.

Surprisingly, there was still space in the bike rack when I arrived just before 8 am...

 

 

I could've had another cup of coffee before I left home...

[StreetCowboy]

It might seem questionable to categorise this as an Off-Road Rampage

but I think walking through this

qualifies.

The DASH highway (Damansarara -SHah Alam - more appropriately it should have been the Shah Alam - Damansara Highway) will be Malaysia’s latest contribution to congestion and global warming, but we took the opportunity of riding it end to end while it was 97% complete.  I was surprised we got no bother the whole route, bar some road blocks that were easily climbed over, bar the construction works above, where some workers explained “Don’t walk on the red crosses”. Good safety understanding , and a positive attitude, though their supervisor and company security manager may hold a different view.

And one final little moment of strife, as we returned toward the far side of the construction, looking for an easy exit to ground level, from a security guard - the first we’d

 

seen in 40 km - “No! Cannot!”

”We’d like to exit to ground level via this ramp”

”No - cannot!”

”So what do you suggest?”

We didn’t wait for a reply, and proceeded down the ramp, which ended in a stretch of rough gravel, and salmoning up a back road in Kota Damansara. He may still be scratching his chin to come up with a suitable solution.

[StreetCowboy]

Young J joined us again for the first part of Sunday - the cycling - though another appointment prevented him joining us for a coke or whatever young people drink in the pub.

As you may know, I am off on a family visit to The Old Country next week, and my buddy is entertaining an old friend from overseas the following week - another cyclist, who, by his own claims, was previously quite fit, and now rides Strava in his attic.  “So can you plan me a simple 100 km route?  I thought about up and down the Federal Highway bike lane, but that’s not far enough”.  His sense of direction is ok in that he recognises junctions, but that is more help on the rarely travelled roads than the frequently traveled.  “Yes, I recognise this junction, 50% of the time we come by this road and leave in equal proportion this way or that way; if we arrive on that road we normally leave by the other, and vice versa, but I have no idea what happens next…”

So we went all the way straight to the end of the suburb and village, and if you know you’re going up the LDP highway there’s only one way from there.  If I tried to tell you how to get to the tiny slip road off the highway where we go wrong-road you’d be baffled, but if I showed you, you’d remember it well.  Up the highway as far as it goes, straight across, then left alongside the main road but through the villages, straight on to a dead end where you take a motorcycle cut into Sungai Buloh, then all the way down Jalan Sungai Buloh to the turn-off to the airport, though we u-turned past Star Avenue (you saw Star Avenue in the DASH photos, though this week we were on the old road underneath the elevated highway). Traffic was stopped for five minutes waiting for Royalty to pass, and then it was Guthrie Highway, right on to Federal Highway - in my view a dicey right turn in heavy traffic, but we put safety before compliance and filtered through red lights to get safely in lane before the traffic followed us.  Up the Federal Highway to the end of the bike lane, then U-turn a junction earlier - I assume that will be no more successful next week - and all the way back to KL. As a stranger, you might need help at some of the roadworks, and more confusing layout on The River of Life, but my buddy will be fine.  You can’t go wrong on the little back streets up the hill behind the Indian Temple (not unless you’ve never been there before, or if you’ve ever followed a different route there), and then if he follows the blue bike lane (except where it goes on the footpath) he’ll be at The Twin Towers before he can say “photo-op”.  Jalan Sultan Ismail is a busy road, but the only challenge is to make sure you take the second lane, to turn left, not the left lane to fly over and turn right.Anyway, that location is easily recognised - that’s where the pink Range Rover was in the wrong lane. From there, it’s a kilometre down the highway to Parlimen Roundabout, which is not hard to negotiate if you have your wits about you, a good understanding of the vagaries of Malaysian drivers, supreme self-confidence and complete faith in your own immortality.  Bukit Tunku is a lovely, leafy, affluent suburb, and this is the easiest way up the hill - like being on the level except in a lower gear.  Perhaps it’s fortunate that Sids in Bukit Tunku closed some years back, otherwise he might never have cycled the last part sober… then through the tunnel, swerving through the village, a last little incline and you’re in Cider Country.

”So what do you reckon? Simple enough?”

”Steve’s going to <deleted> himself”

”I could try and suggest a lower-traffic route…”

”No, no - that’s simple and easy to remember.  Steve’s fit enough - I’ll tell him ‘stay two feet behind me and ignore the traffic”

”Tell him ‘60 cm’ in case he misinterprets as ‘both feet’ and half-wheels you”.

Young J suffered from twisting his bars in pot-holes, but easily remedied on the road with the correct allan key, but I can see he might want to start riding with people nearer his own age, or at least not so thirsty.

[StreetCowboy]

We went back out on the DASH highway, as it looked like it might be opening soon - some of the high construction barriers have come down, and it looked not far off when we rode it six weeks ago.  I invited our former Project Director (you may recall we lost him in Federal Hill, but he still got home before us) and Young J, who is used to riding the future SUKE highway (“it’s like a gym at the weekend - cyclists, joggers, walkers, rolerskaters…”.

I thought the PD would like it, as he is a highwayman at heart.  “Oh, this is terrible - look at that discolouration; the waterproofing membrane between the tarmac and the concrete is not properly bonded; this will all need to come up in a year or two…”

To get the kilometres up, we took a detour after the end, along the aptly named Jalan Paip, replete with roadside mains water pipe, and through a couple of cemeteries; I suppose if I’d thought about the return journey I’d have enjoyed the 60 km/h down towards Jalan Paip less.  
You may recall that last time on DASH we had a painless journey (bar carrying our bikes through the section where there was still deck concrete to be poured) until a security guard gave us a bit of a whinging just before we reached that section on the return journey.

This time round, we probably saw as many cyclists as workers, but a gentleman in a car (I’m not sure how he got there - we could easily lift our bikes over the barriers, but he would have needed four particularly burly passengers to deal with his car) told us we were not allowed on the road “yeah, yeah, we’ll leave at the next exit”; he went on his way, and we carried on ours.  Unfortunately, he was returning as I was about to shift the plastic barriers to block his progress, and I thought that to do so in plain view would be unhelpfully confrontational.  Fortunately, there was a concrete barrier shortly after that we could cross more easily than he. unfortunately, he must have called ahead, as we shortly came to a couple more cars and a security guard.  The concessionaire had called out the Contractor, who explained in quite apologetic terms that he could not allow us to proceed through the construction (which was a fair point) and he escorted us off to the nearest passable exit - the same that we had left at last time.  This time we took a different wrong turning, and had to u-turn across eight lanes of Highway toll plaza.

Anyway, it’s a lovely road to cycle on, it will be better when all the expansion joints are installed, the gradients are all wheelchair-friendly, and from what we saw, much more popular with cyclists than motorists.

#pedestrianiseDASH

[StreetCowboy]

An old acquaintance from Soi Cowboy was back in town, and I was due a drink with Dr K (purely medicinal) so I took the opportunity to combine the two as a gentle bicycle ride.  My buddy turned up as well, as he thought that he had domestic obligations that would preclude a Sunday ride.  The Visitor coped with my road bike, despite me having adjusted the FD limit screws such that he could not access the big chain wheel, and Dr K performed admirably for a man that had not been on a bike since the days of The Wombles. I think the ride benefitted substantially from a misnavigation on my part, that saw us passing some graffiti murals, looping through the highway offices, and following familiar roads home.  I may have overdone it on the final part of the ride, and was pleasantly relieved to find my bike downstairs in the car park beside the other bikes, with the saddle adjustment allan keys safely nestled in the helmet hanging in the saddle bar.

 

All’s well that ends well, until it doesn’t.

[StreetCowboy]

I’d been struggling to find a route over 100 km that did not involve coming back up the North South Highway - not that we hadn’t enjoyed it last time, in the rain, after being escorted off the muddy construction road by the security guard minutes before the rain started; but traffic is heavier now, and the two junctions we would pass might be hazardous.

Anyway, I found a route that Google Maps said was fine, though there was some complexity in the Southern reaches before we got to the dubious highway construction bridge…

As if!  Google Maps would take us there by this route -

This was only about 5 km long, but this was the best part of it.  Half as long would not have been an effort, but twice as long would have been tiresome.  Some loops and misdirections in steadily worsening rain and I abandoned the construction bridge to a future exploration, and we got back to the pub just in time for our first cider.

[StreetCowboy]

The Highland Games had come round again after an absence of two years, but I planned a gentler ride there than the last couple of years, for the sake of those who were a bit out of practice; even still, I found myself racing ahead, once we got to the bar. Anyway, in my regular call home, my son asked “Highland Games? What’s your favourite event?”

”Beer tent”

I’d been waxing eloquent on the merits of Schwalbe Marathon tyres, with their inner blue layer of puncture protection; recklessly with regard to ironic consequence.  I’d set a gentle pace on Sunday’s ride, recovering from the rigour of The Games, and possibly a longer recovery stop on the way home than is prudent, so as we approached the final climb of the day my buddy raced ahead, and I plodded on… slower and slower, and slightly wobbly and turgid and … sure enough, the rear tyre was too soft to be worth fondling.  Disappointingly, there are high construction barriers all the way along that stretch of road, with no hard shoulder, so I had to walk all the way up to the traffic lights where my buddy was waiting, before there was a patch of grass and to fix the puncture.  Schwalbe Marathon tyres may be (almost) bullet-proof, but they are barstands to get off and on, though it’s easier with four hands than two.  I scanned the tyre for the culprit, and ran my fingers inside it to no avail. But once we’d located the hole in the tube we quickly found a tiny fragment of glass, no more than 3 mm in its longest dimension, and only long enough to pierce the tyre wall under load.  I suppose that saved us a pint when we got to the end of the ride, so my boss got the real benefit of it this morning.

[StreetCowboy]

We were off to scout the pubs in preparation for Pubcycle 2022; I’d thought about putting a pannier on the shopping bike to keep the handouts flat, but decided that a backpack would suffice. Unfortunately, it seems that last weekend’s patch had not been 100% successful, and the rear tyre was as flat as old scrumpy.  Rather than delay the ride, I jumped on the shopping bike.  60 km is far enough on the shopping bike, even allowing for two cider stops en route.

So now we have our pubs lined up, I need to review the route, and start drumming up riders and sponsors.

[StreetCowboy]

I’d been lid up poorly with covid mot of the week, but Sunday felt well enough for a gentle ride.  I’d agreed to lend my mountain bike to a friend  who had just returned to the country, pending the arrival of his container, and I had to to spare, so took a trip round a local park.

There was a lacrosse team practicing 

It is a nice little park, but for all that everyone likes parks, not a lot of people use them

[StreetCowboy]

On 10/24/2022 at 6:40 PM, StreetCowboy said:

I’d been lid up poorly with covid mot of the week, but Sunday felt well enough for a gentle ride.  I’d agreed to lend my mountain bike to a friend  who had just returned to the country, pending the arrival of his container, and I had to to spare, so took a trip round a local park.

There was a lacrosse team practicing 

It is a nice little park, but for all that everyone likes parks, not a lot of people use them

 

Pubcycle IX has passed, and the Christmas break; I took the young lad out for a ride while the family were here, but his sister declined to join; my buddy has been off the cycling for a while with ill health and some arterial plumbing work, so it’s been a quiet couple of months.  
we did manage a ride the Sunday before Christmas - I’d planned it meticulously, I knew there were some challenging sections navigationally out towards the zoo, but I missed the turning at the roadworks and it was 2 km before I realised we were on exactly the same road as last time we went to Wangsa Maju.

my intention had been to join the Middle Ring Road (MRR2) at Batu Caves Roundabout, but the diverging slip road to Jalan Ipoh was too busy to cross, so we headed down Jalan Ipoh, right at the roundabout to Kepong, and then some misnavigation (I think ‘off-road rampage’ sounds more intrepid - I am not entirely surprised I don’t have a photo, it was a future development site adjacent to the pylon reserve; anyway, I wasn’t lost, I knew where I was, but I didn’t know where I was going, and my buddy wasn’t lost - he was following me; Young J might have been lost, but he’s both stoic and courageous - the two most important attributes for a cyclist, and we were able to find a small bypass gate to get off the construction site, and before you could say “There’s no through road here” we were lifting the gate off its hinges to get between two suburban developments, riding boldly past a security guard house confident we were en route to the highway, and again, in the reverse direction, confident yet slightly sheepish that we were now en route to the highway, down the highway and onto the diabolical new DASH highway slip road that throws high speed highway traffic into the middle of Kampung Penchala village, and at last to the pub, no sooner than we deserved.

 

[StreetCowboy]

Young H had invited me out for a pub lunch with elderly B, and it seemed rude to decline.  It was a great lunch, marred possibly by stressing the ‘pub’ and less so the ‘lunch’ part, but I put it to you that I was clearly fit to cycle home after going down Science Centre Hill, up the Highway, and the climb to the tunnel, through the tunnel and into the village.I did take a tumble pulling over to the side to allow a car driver to pass in the village - the roads in the village are not really suitable for motor vehicles, but we do our best to accomodate them.

Anyway, the tumble appears to have stripped the thread on my headstock steering clamp,

which my buddy has taken as a personal challenge to repair, and in the meantime, I am on the shopping bike.

I had not planned a ride for today, and Young J confirmed that in the absence of a ‘cycling plans for the weekend’, he had Other Plans. An acquaintance of mine, whom last I had seen riding his motorbike on the Federal Highway Bike Lane, had on Saturday posted a ride on the road we had missed a couple of weeks ago - it’s the first right turn after the. Viaduct crossing from Jalan Ampang - not these lights, there’s no right turn here, nor these lights…my buddy was all set for a bit of complaint about riding so far alongside the central reservation, but the turning we wanted was pretty <deleted>, and given the choice,I think I would ride that route in reverse.

Anyway, we got back in to town by some misrouting and retracing, and I was counting down the kilometres to the pub when he reminded me that his sister was here and keen to join us for a short bike ride.

So we stopped past my apartment to pick up the mountain bike for his sister, and while I was pumping up the rear tyre he took the headstock for work.   I’d had enough, and let them Go Their Own Way.  I did walk home to get the Shopping Bike (I’m not sure I’ve ever walked home drunk, and I don’t want today to be another adventure into the unknown) and while I was about it, there was no harm in stopping by the pharmacist for some antiseptic cream for yesterdays mishap.

[StreetCowboy]

I don’t believe in conspiracy theories, but events had conspired to prevent me honouring my Comitment to joining the Bangsar Cycling Group ride this Tuesday recently today.

As well as the headstock problem, I had to go to the Client’s office and couldn’t cycle to work.  Daunted, but never thwarted, I drove home promptly to get my bike as soon as my meeting finished, and I had time to circle round and confirm Subway was closed, and I’d be cycling on an empty stomach.  D was not joining the ride but came along for the pre ride chat, and the young couple looked a bit Leary about joining so many crumblies “ Do you want to go up Mayors Hill?” Our responses varied from ‘Yes’ to ‘Also can’ and ‘I’ll wait for you at the bottom’.  Maybe I shouldn’t’ve mentioned bottoms. The Young Couple chose to Go Their Own Way.  
 

So the three of us set out.  As ride leader, I had the advantage that the other guys were both much fitter than me.  It was a pleasure to ride with guys whom I was confident could deal with anything I could ride over, and I hope they enjoyed some slightly different routes.