Rear Flat and Frozen Fingers

Rear flat and frozen fingers

The temperature sensor in the car had read 2 degrees on the way across town to meet Gav and Craig at the start point.

There was only a light dusting of frost on neighbouring lawns - and anyway, the forecast had been for 0, so I was feeling optimistic.

It didn't take very long to find that suburban Prospect is a touch warmer than the nearby open fields surrounding Longford.  The old Bass Hwy and Pateena Rd were both bordered by a crisp white fairyland of frost.  Beautiful, but the cold quickly seeped into the toes of overshoes and the tips of gloves.

Rolling at the back of the line and listening to the gentle tick-ticking of Gav's rear hub, I was shocked out my thoughts by a shotgun report, quickly followed by the flap, flap, flap of an instantaneously flat rear tyre.  As Gav wheeled gingerly to a stop, my heart sank, as it looked as though the tyre had split and given way, and we quickly noticed a missing rear brake block.

While I wheeled back up the road in search of the missing ( and expensive Koolstop ) item, Gav checked the tyre and found that it had been blown off the rim and it was the tube that had a 60mm split along one side.  Craig actually spotted the lost pad, so we rejoined Gav to inspect the damage and try a spare tube.

20 minutes of fumbling with a shifter and re-adjusting the gear linkage and we were away again - but not before I'd made the realisation that, in the rush to get the bikes together and finished during the week, I had neglected to squeeze the rear brake pad holders on Gav's bike in the vice to gently clamp the pads in place.  Not a great realisation to make with 192 Km to go and pads that could be slipped out with finger and thumb.

20's Malvern Star + fields of frost

We continued on, a quick coffee at Longford and then into Cressy.  Besides the odd clonk from Craig's chain and Gav's ( and my own ) reluctant front brake, the bikes were running well - remarkably efficient on the largely flat roads.

Whatley Crank Tweak - Outside the original Cressy Cycles workshop

Craig's left crank needed a little tightening of the cotter pin - it had worked loose allowing a slight wobble to the crank.  I checked my own and benefitted from a quick tweak of the cotter nuts, ironing out a slight mis-alignment feel.  The image above was taken outside the Cressy garage where the Whatley was made some time in the 30's - so a home-coming of sorts.  I'm not actually posing - seriously checking to ensure nothing serious was amiss before continuing - there is quite a run between Cressy and Campbelltown.

And what a lovely ride on gently rolling terrain.  A slight headwind didn't seem to hinder our progress, but heavy fog left us dripping with condensation - the bikes thoroughly wet but running sweetly.  Gav managed to save his skin on the only plank bridge of the ride.  Dropping a front wheel into a wide gap, pure reaction - and probably a lack of really effective brakes - allowed him to carry some momentum up and out of the rut to continue safely over the bridge.  My own tyres were so wide I really didn't need to watch too closely - and we spent the next half hour joking and laughing in relief at the closeness of the call.



Aero in Cressy

Campbelltown appeared in the mist and my parents were waiting to meet us for a welcome coffee.  A quick toasty in front of the open fire was magical and offered a chance to dry gloves a little.  The new owner of the Red Bridge Cafe turned out to be a Belgian cycling nut who was intrigued by our machines and very friendly and supportive.  The coffee was excellent, thankyou.

The Midlands Hwy is never pleasant, with quite a lot of traffic, but Ross came up quickly, then Tunbridge.  Feeling a bit weary wasn't helped by snagging my gear cable at the roadside stop and losing all gears but top for a few minutes until I'd re-tensioned the cable.  The rollers leading into St Peters Pass were telling on my legs, the shear mass of the Malvern Star dragging on every incline.  The swoop into Oatlands was pretty satisfying though - no brakes and hefty bikes makes for rapid descending - but stable on the old warhorse.

A bowl of chips, another coffee and an arrangement to meet Dad again at the Mudwalls turn-off.  For a moment the sun came through and the wind had begun to swing and freshen, and by the time we rolled out of town we had a following breeze which made the next 10 fast and fun.

Onto the rough mudwalls road and the eyeball jiggling began - and by the time we had reached the top of the Colebrook hill the wheels were coming off.  Not exactly the wheels, more a case of a critical front brake pivot and loosening left cotter pin again on the Whatley.  My rushed preparation was finally coming back to bite us.

With my tiring body, our collective lack of trustworthy stopping power, and an aversion to risking crank damage, we packed the bikes onto the rack of the car and piled in after 156 of the planned 200.  Not the greatest end to the day, but critical in finding the bike's weak spots and our own vulnerabilities.

More soon on the bike setup and prep.