A day without howling

Here's a new declaration: Any day without howling noises coming from the rear hub is a wonderful day. Props to County Cycles mechanic Cayley for getting this thing under control, I rode today in perfect serene quiet for the first time in the last five rides on NewLOOK.

This may be a bit bicycle tech heavy but here is what happened: In addition to replacing the hub, the mechanic discovered that there was a slight "burr" on the pawls.

Burr on the pawls.

Normal wear on the pawls (I love saying "pawls") can create a wear spot, a slight burr. In the initial hub replacement she told me that she had discovered this burr and had taken a file to it and that it should not be a problem.

In conversations later in the day after the howling reoccurred she further opined that the "burr" could displace the pawl slightly and that slightly displaced the pawl could rub against the hub, producing the howl. The very last adjustment she made was to diligently apply the file, taking care to remove any trace of the burr.

Eureka.

A nice long ride on a sunny and 70 day, a day which has unfortunately become unseasonably warm, but a day making the time spent outdoors well worth the effort.

I rode down into the big city where I discovered preparations are under way for the big marathon running race this weekend. I decided to ride down along Summit Avenue, the prettiest street in the city, to check on preparations and to enjoy the avenue. I ended up at the top of Ramsey Hill where I got this panorama of the river valley.

Here is a measure of my personal physical decline which I lament but which I also find it senseless to deny: I used to ride over here at least once each year on the occasion of the Saint Paul Bike Classic, and once in a while on other occasions as well, for the sole purpose of climbing that hill. At the SPBC they always had a volunteer on foot at the top of the hill passing out "I topped Ramsey Hill" buttons. I have several.

Today I satisfied myself with thinking about how hard it is to climb that hill.

But . . .

See that guy walking down the hill on the left side sidewalk? Just before I snapped the photo he finished a climb of the hill AT A JOG. He paused not a moment to catch his breath, he didn't seem particularly winded, he just turned and started walking back down.

I've got more.

Just before that as I was leaning my bicycle against the there for the marathon but not yet in the street road blocks to free up my hands to take the photo a young person topped the hill on a bicycle.

He was loaded, carrying a messenger bag. The bag may not have had much in it, maybe it was empty but still he had a bag slung over his back.

He was riding a single speed.

I wish I had asked him, I briefly considered it, I wonder what gear he was running there. In any case he only had one.

And he climbed that hill in it, paused briefly without stopping at the stop sign and continued on his way.

Young, fit and quite obviously strong.

I rather acutely felt my age.

On the other hand, I rode. I rode long, I rode, for me, hard. It was a great day, I had a great ride, I am satisfied.

One more topic and then I will probably watch some important TV. I hope that my earlier statements about ash trees made my position clear but I may have been vague and recent commenters have been quite explicit. I want at this point to remove any doubt in case there is any. Ash trees give up WAY too easily and WAY too early.

This is a view of Albert Street only a couple of miles from home. Most of the boulevard trees are ash with some other species visible along the way in front yards. That tree immediately in front of me to the left is a good example of an ash that has already given up.

In defense of the ash trees they still provide a pretty picture against a blue sky.