Urban Gorilla Art and Innerspace Photography

It seems that since I tidied the garage and hung up my mountain bikes I’ve only been riding my Duchess, with a brief interlude with my path racer. The Duchess is really the perfect vehicle for exploring the quake ravaged heart of Christchurch as little by little we can get further into the city. This shrinking of the cordon has inspired me to create an installation of pieces which reflect my frustration at the loss of the city to demolition companies and the army, and also make me feel a little bit more like I am taking my city back. 

I spent a lovely 2 hours riding around the city setting up and photographing my tiny tableaus and have created a website – CBD Exiles – to celebrate their existence. It’s been a couple of weeks now and many of them are still in situ. I’m interested to see how long they last as more and more people return to the city.

I’ve also been Tweeding again. An epic 20km tweed ride along the Heathcote River, with plenty of pubbery and a little crazy BMX tracking. Unfortunately no racing took place as the evil Chumly Pogward injured his delicate back. Ahhh well, it’s probably for the best.

And in the biggest news of the last couple of weeks I headed in for arthroscopic knee surgery last Thursday, to tidy up some long existing meniscal tears and floaty bits of cartilage. The operation went well, but resulted in a very disappointing prognosis for my knee. I went back to the surgeon yesterday for my follow up appointment and was informed that my knee is “Munted”. This is NOT a work you want to have associated with anything you care about, your city, bike, house, sewer system, but especially not with a part of your body.

Then the lovely Mr Penny told me that it may not be a problem for a long time due to the fact I’m not fat (his words – he is truly a lovely man) and because I ride my bikes lots. Unfortunately he then went on to explain the baffling photo’s I’d received after my surgery (the squeamish should look away now). While they look like pictures of faraway planets (or to the more filthy minded something else) they are interior views of my knee showing the damage removed and the damage that means my knee is basically a ticking time bomb of falling apartness.

Bad streaming trendils

Bad lump of meniscus that was causing my knee to lock

Very old cartilage tear causing some locking

Random floating bits

What it boils down to is the cartilage inside my knee is so damaged that in places it is non-existent and that’s bad. To be honest, I’m kinda meh about the whole prognosis, I’ve had trouble with my knee since I was 14 now, it’s just a normal part of my life so I’m not too concerned. I’ll just ride my bikes lots and lots, stay strong and fit, and hopefully get 15 years out of it before I need a whole new knee. 

Scoring in the cartilage

The top right is just bare bone now - rather bad news

Nasty ulcer in the cartilage

Luckily with the help of the lovely Bastian I’ve healed up quickly from my surgery and am riding to work already.

I just need to get rid of this man-flu I currently have and I’ll be hitting the road and the trail again to build up for an epic ride on the Longest Day. In the meantime I’m going to start work on my lovely Empire for the Great Poms and Cassels Tweed Run in July. You should come along to it, it is going to be brilliant!

The L’Esprit – Complete

Sometimes fettling with old bikes is not all bread and roses. Sometimes it’s bruised and skinned knuckles, stripped threads and damaged, hard to replace parts. The L’Esprit has been all of these things. On Thursday morning (day off work) I began what I hoped was the final assembly process, but at lunchtime was called into the office. Being a diligent employee I downed tools and headed in.

Once work was over things just didn’t go well with the reassembly process. The thread had stripped off the tiny screw that attached the derailleur to the frame and my tired brain also struggled to remember how to attach it once a replacement was stolen off an old brake. Then I couldn’t get the newly rebuilt rear hub to the correct degree of tightness and I had a tube explode while I was polishing up a rim. All in all I became a little irritable with the bike and went to bed.

Unfortunately Friday was not much better with a hideous day in the office leaving me rather grumpy and impatient. Chain dramas were enough to send me to bed for an early night, knowing I had to be up bright and early to work on Saturday.

The problem was, Saturday was D-day. I needed to have the bike finished as a Rowdy Tweed Ride was planned for the evening and I really wanted my hubby to accompany me on this. In the end I bit the bullet and replaced the chain, which made me happy as everything was looking shiny and I wasn’t overly excited about attaching the rusty old thing back on the now beautiful bike. 

Built up it looked great and after a few tweaks and a couple of test rides and more tweaks it was ready for its night out. I felt so proud as my lovely hubby zoomed through Hagley Park, the bike looked great and so did he. I have only the Red Empire left to fettle, however I think I may leave her be for a while and perhaps tackle the creation of a Victorian Woman’s Cycling costume. You know, something a little less greasy. 

No photos of my beloved Bastoolio this week, just lots of the L’Esprit. Enjoy. 

Just to remind my dear, tolerant readers of how it looked before...

... and now like new after

Drive train is running great

Blinging cable guides

Cloth bar tape and some spray and wipe applied to the hoods and the cockpit is looking fine

Hub stripped, cleaned, regreased and polished. Looking like new

Mid Rowdiness at Smash Palace. Great fun was had by all

The Path Racer rides; and more grease under the finger nails.

Last week I put the finishing touches on the path racer. You know, mere aesthetic details like working brakes, repainted lugs and a head tube badge. A big thanks to Dave and Aaron at Velo Ideale for fettling my brakes in submission so that they actually work now.

She looks right at home in the forest

Today was a momentous day. After a few frankly vigorous rides to work, she’s got a big gear on her my lovely lady, I took her out to where she belongs, the dirt paths of McLeans Island for a blat. To be honest I was slightly concerned that my knees would explode riding up the stop banks but all went well and it was actually my wrists which gave me the most gip. I will be tweaking my cockpit for a better level of bar and perhaps discussing with Bob further shimming options.

Anyway, being a lovely day I took a few shots to showcase Jimmima’s beauty in the setting sun. I couldn’t quite believe how well she handled and she railed the berms out there like none of my other bikes. I think she shall become my official McLean’s bike.

In other news my new found obsession with fettling continues and I have started work on my hubby’s bike from his school days. It is a large framed L'Espirit ten speed, which had unfortunately been covered in hideous Yak stickers.

There is a front wheel, it's just in the shed.

Despite these glaring horrors I was able to see that under the years of grime and dust there is a rather lovely old bike waiting to come out.

Progress has been good so far. Working with just one bike rather than bits from one and a frame from another, is much easier. The bike has been fully stripped of all parts and the laborious cleaning and polishing process has begun. I find it so satisfying to take a dirty rusty piece of bicycle and transform it into a sparkling piece of bling.

Lovely detailed little tab off the gear change levers

Old, crusty Suntour rear derailleur

Shiny bling one

 I suspect I’ll have this boy ready to ride by the end of the week. Then I’ll just have to persuade my lovely man to join me on a Tweed Ride (the next one being Sunday the 13th of May which I highly recommend all Quake dwellers with steel framed bikes and a penchant for dressing up all fancy like, join us for – see the Stalkbook group).

Finally both Bastian and I have been enjoying the glorious autumnal weather. I’ve been exploring the fringes of the red zone and have discovered that the central city is being reclaimed by nature and it is lovely.

I’m not sure where Bastian has been exploring, but wherever it is there are a lot of grasshoppers there as he’s been bringing us at least one or two grasshoppers every night for the past few nights. Mostly they survive and are released but I suspect when we move the furniture around next there will be a number of little green surprises waiting for us. Bless him.

PS - I have purposely included an error in this blog somewhere, the first person to guess right will receive a much coveted "I want to ride my bike" sticker made by the lovely Mel at Black Swan Designs. If they want it.

The Path Racer is Born

After last weekend’s exertions I suffered rather badly from the sleeping sickness last week, with most 24 hour periods having 15 hours of sleep in them. This makes for very short days and it is very lucky I work flexible hours and have an understanding husband and boss. In my waking hours I spent a lot of my time scrubbing rust of old bike parts, but I did manage today to get out for a lovely ride at McLeans Island with an awesome group of girls.

The time spent scrubbing was well worth it. Almost all the parts I stripped off in the “Born fettler” post have the majority of their rust removed and a shiny finish buffed up.

The Christchurch term for this bearing face is munted. Luckily the wonderful Bob was able to supply me with a replacement part

The brake levers came up well

Rather proud of disassembling the pedals and removing the rust

The faux Raleigh chain ring came up very well

I got rather bored of polishing the fully laced rims and only did the back wheel. In the loooong process of cleaning up the back wheel I discovered the inner tube was now bonded eternally with the cotton rim tape and the rim itself. I scrubbed as much rust out of the inside of the rims as possible and then got some heavy duty plastic rim tape applied and now things are looking happier. The rims exteriors came up wonderfully shiny so I was happy with that. Yay coke!

Cleaned up rear hub, luckily all the bearing faces here were in good shape

Then today came the big exciting day. The visit to Bob’s legendary shed to build it up. It was just as I dreamed. An Aladdin’s Cave of wonderful tools and beautiful bikes. I feel deeply privileged to not only have visited Bob in his natural environment, but to have his extensive knowledge and generous nature to help me build up my path racer. Not only did he assembly the beast for me, he provided parts, refaced the bottom bracket and cleaned up the treads on the frame. Legend. I cannot say enough good things about Bob and I won’t go on much more lest he blush.

The entrance to the "magic cupboard" where Bob is build his amazing bike from scratch

After a number of exciting and brilliantly informative hours I was wheeling my brakeless stead from the magic shed of wonderment with the biggest grin on my face. She is a beauty and after a brief ride up the street I discovered she rides wonderfully and smoothly. All that degreasing of hubs was worth it. Tonight I spent a certain amount of time attaching a front brake to it so I can ride it to work tomorrow.

Jobs left to be done. Get a correct diameter seat post. Get correct inner tubes. Remove hideously pink decals. Attach polished up brass head tube badge from the Mayam. Reattach the other grip and attach the back brake. Finally, and if I have the funds for it, replace the seat with something a little more fitting. Perhaps this.

And finally tonight I give you Bastian doing his best Superman impression in his sleep and at the same time inflicting that common disease cat paralysis on my beloved and patient husband.

I say patient because in addition to this beautiful path racer I managed to purchase a rather lovely old Empire cycle on tardme on Friday. It’s staying in Dunedin till I can get down there, which is a good thing for our marriage.

A Weekend of Two Halves

 Despite my recent all-consuming preoccupation with old bikes I actually managed to do a race at the weekend! Even better it was a team race and my lovely hubby joined me on the team.  We were entered as a team of 4 in the Krank 8hr race at Hanmer Springs with the effervescent Anna Ross and newbie to racing Greer Swinard. It was a horribly early start as we decided to go up the day of the race which meant a pre- 6am wake up call. Bastian provided us a distinctly unwelcome one just before 5am and I couldn’t get back to sleep after that. Bloody cat!

Monster alarm clock enjoys fresh washing

The drive to Hanmer was uneventful and the setting up and registered chaotic as I thought the race started at 9:30, but it started at 9. Lining up on the start line I was feeling flat as a pancake so when the gun went I was very glad to have Michelle to ride with and push me to go a little bit faster on the first deceptive climb. I’d taken the 9er with me for this race and as soon as we got into the singletrack I realised this was a mistake. I couldn’t corner to save my life and wasn’t carrying speed which meant I was on the brakes and working harder than I should have been after most corners.

Sooooo glad the first lap is over

There was then a rather unfortunate organisational breakdown with no marshal being stationed at the most ambiguous corner of the start loop, which was meant longer than all the other laps. Luckily a local directed Michelle and myself back onto the right track and soon we were all alone in the autumnal forest as half the field had gone the wrong way. I had more troubles with the big hoops in here and found it to be a slog. Then we were finally under the bridge and the climbing began in earnest. Up the biggest climb of the day I was impressed I managed to ride all the way to the top, but blasting down the other side I just couldn’t trust the cornering and was much slower than I would have liked.  A gentle (read slog) climb back up Dog Stream and then onto Mach 1 which was a mixture of climb and descent, then another longish fireroad climb and back to the camp. The lap seemed to go on forever and I was an extremely grumpy and underfed bunnie after an hour 16mins of riding.

Greer coming in after her first ever lap in a race! Great work

Luckily I had 3 hours to recover and by my second lap felt surprisingly better, plus much shorter than the first monster long one. Bike control was a little better, but I missed my Anthem still, especially since Anna had her shiny new one with her.

Michelle being epic again

Despite the course being in the opposite direction to the way I like it was still a fun day out and was great hanging out with my awesome teammates and heckling/cheering for people.

Anna and Pete enjoying the comforts of our pit site between laps

For a recovery ride I was lucky enough to have a tweed ride to go to the next day. This one was to convene in Sumner, so I gave myself plenty of time to ride there. Along the way I met up with the divine Lady Andrea and her husband Kevin and we braved the causeway in a fierce headwind together. Andrea was riding a lovely old bike from 1914 and did an amazing job powering into the wind while I made use of my gears to spin along. Unfortunately a fit of optimism had seen me strap a pentenque set to my rack and with every bump the heavy metal balls would crash about making not only an awful racket, but making the bike feel quite unstable.

Myself and Lady Andrea looking very spiffing

Luckily we made it to the carpark in Sumner in once piece and joined the rest of our finely dressed compatriots with their array of lovely bicycles. Cruising pleasantly along the esplanade we drew many an admiring glance and at the end a challenge was laid down about riding up the Taylor’s Mistake hill. I was initially apprehensive, having smashed myself the previous day and frankly struggled in the headwind on the causeway.  Plus having about 10kgs of metal balls strapped to the arse end of my bike didn’t make the idea a pleasing prospect. 

Half the group.....

 

.....and the other half

After making excuses about tiredness, high heels and weight on the back of the bike I was provoked into a duel. It would have been a fairly uneven match without the heels and the petenque set on my bike as I have the luxury of 3 modern gears, whereas Chumly had only his strength and the size of his chainring to power him up the hill. He took off like a bat out of hell, lithely bunny hopping off the curb and streaking up the hill. I had to find a driveway to go down so didn’t manage to get a sprint on at all. Halfway to the first bend and my legs were demanding I drop a gear and suddenly life was much better. I found Chumly doing the chivalrous thing and waiting for me at the head of the corner, but I continued onwards for this was a race of endurance. Halfway to the next corner I decided I had made my point and hurtled back down the hill. It was awesome fun. I’m almost tempted to take the Duchess to Halswell and see how far I can get up Kennedy’s Bush Rd on it!

Victory was mine!!!

More riders venture forth encouraged by Chumley and my sterling efforts. Note Chumley's excellent cornering form in the background

We then toured around the back streets and containers of Sumner for a while before settling in at the Thirsty Mariner for well-earned drinks and a staggering and sometimes unidentifiable array of deep fried snacks. There a plan (ill-fated for me as it turns out) was hatched to head to the Brewery. Andrea, Kevin and I headed off with a now gentle (soooo typical) tailwind speeding us across the causeway, while the others drove down to Ferry Rd to park up and join us by cycle for the rest of the ride.

Beautiful delivery bike

In no time at all we were enjoying the live music, fine beverages and witty banter at the Brewery. However dark clouds of impending doom (well deep embarrassment) were fast forming on my horizon. As we were leaving to partake of the path beside the Heathcote I came a cropper due to a combination of a sudden stop, a weighty rear end (of my bicycle) and my stylish high heels. I found myself sprawled on the ground, one shoe arching gracefully over my head and the contents of my basket strewn about me. It was incredibly mortifying. I still feel a bit sick about it today.

Pipe smoking is a very serious Tweed past time

I gathered my things and the tatters of my dignity and off we set along the Heathcote. This bit was brilliant and very challenging with gapping cracks everywhere and tight turns to catch out the unwary or those with a limited turning circle. After much hilarity we were back at the others’ cars and I was, for the third time, heading along Ferry Rd, this time with home in my sights. It was a truly marvellous day out and I can’t wait for the next one. In the meantime I have plenty of rusty bike parts to polish and hopefully a visit to Bob’s mythical shed to look forward to.

The joy of the Tweed Ride clearly evident