Stranded with a mechanical? Plan your escape

Getting stranded with a mechanical 20 miles from home isn’t something you expect to happen, but in the back of your mind, you know it, like any other mishap, can happen.

Yep, it happened to me a few days ago!

I was on the way back home, about 31 miles into my ride recently, pedaling hard at 20 mph past a slower rider when a rear wheel spoke popped, throwing the wheel out of round. I knew right away it was the same spoke I’d replaced after a similar break about a year earlier. That spoke broke after being replaced by a spoke that was improperly trued when it replaced a bent spoke. My right heel had caused the original bent spoke, when I reacted to a squirrel running in front of my wheel. I missed the squirrel but the bent spoke put the back wheel out of round. Then, there wasn’t a huge wobble in the wheel and I was able to ride back all the way to the bike shop. Got a new spoke but it popped about three rides later because it wasn’t trued correctly and was overstressed. It broke right in the middle. Then I was stranded, and I called my wife. Bless her heart, she drove out and picked me up.

The second spoke replacement was trued properly and held up well, over thousands of miles of riding, so well that I forgot it was a structurally weakened spoke compared to the others. It was the ongoing stress at its hub anchoring spot, which had been already chewed up by some unwanted chain throws on rides along the way, which finally made it snap.

This last time I felt the telltale wheel rub against the rear frame as I rode, and stopped on the trail to figure out my next move. First thing I did was release the rear brake to give the wheel-wobble more clearance.

Let’s see, AAA is out of the question (hey they should have that service for stranded riders!), check, wife is out of town, check. Called the bike shop I go to, to see if on the outside chance somebody there could hop in a car and come pick me up, since, hey, I was going to bring them some more business!

Fat chance! But the guy recommended I get to the nearest light rail station to get back. I hadn’t thought of that, because it was a bit of an added ride to get there, with a lot of traffic hassles. Still, I put it on my mental list as a possible.

I called a rider buddy Pat, but he wasn’t picking up. Left a message of my plight and then decided it was too far to walk to the next place for car access, about three miles ahead. So I rode the almost flat trail slowly and stayed off the rear brake figuring I’d need a new wheel set in the $700 range. Oh well…

When I got to the parking lot three miles ahead, I texted another riding buddy, P.J., to see if he was around. If he wasn’t my plan was to ask drivers leaving the parking lot if they could give me a ride the light rail station. I was pretty sure that would work, since many riders use the lot as their takeoff point. But before I could scan the lot for potential rides, P.J. returned my text. Bingo!

I asked him the big favor, any way you can drive out and pick me up? Whiskey and beer would result, I assured him.

Well, P.J. was a bro in need. He said he had to drop off his kids and he’d pick up me and my crippled bike in a half hour. Wow, now that was pretty lucky. I always put my hand on my dog Little Ricky’s back before leaving the house on every ride, for good luck. It worked, because luck was with me.

P.J. works til noon, and this was about 1:30. Most people I know are working at that time. He picked me up in his truck, offered me water, and drove me the 20-minute freeway drive the bike shop. Found out at the shop that my cassette had a lot of rounded teeth in a couple of the middle gears, which of course had been skipping the chain on shifts to them. And my chain was stretched to the replacement stage. My chain-measuring tool had been showing it still had stretch left in it. But the mechanic showed me with a Shimano chain measurer (the chain was a Shimano) that it was seriously stretched to replacement time. So I found out I need a Shimano chain ruler too!

I bought a replacement Shimano Ultegra wheel set, as well as a new cassette and chain. Expensive bill, but everything was needed, so it was time to pay up.

So the bike is good to go again, and I guess the lesson I learned was to have a go-to person you can call to get picked up if you get stranded on a ride. I don’t have a back up for when my wife is out of town, so I need one. Getting P.J. was just lucky.

Other than that, the phone saved me too. For worse emergencies, I carry my driver license, a credit card, a medical insurance card and a $5 bill. Hope I never need those.

The bike mechanic told me a trick that I wish he’d told me on the phone when I was stranded. He said if the wheel is out of round and you still need to ride it to get home, to take the wheel off and look for the bowed part. Then, he said, to take the wheel and whack it on the pavement (on the tire side) and that often straightens it up enough to ride. I wondered how the hell that could work, since he said the wheel will need to be replaced for sure if you do that. Anyway, when stranded, it may do the trick so it’s something to keep in mind.

Here are some other ways to deal with a broken rear spoke that can work if you have the right spoke tool with you. Somehow I think it's a little more difficult than this dude makes it seem, when this happens out in the middle of nowhere. Check it out…

Until next time, remember to strap on a helmet before every ride and then make sure to keep the rubber side down. Ride safe and have fun.

--  Mark Eric Larson

Ridin' in the rain? Embrace it if you can...

Went on a ride this week and it was cloudy, but the chances of any rain were low according to the Weather Channel. I took off and at my 25-mile turnaround point there were black clouds above and sprinkle starting to hit the pavement. I ate some snacks and headed back, hoping the rain carrying clouds would blow behind me. But about three miles down the trail, I suddenly realize it is raining hard, and the pavement is wet for the foreseeable future.

At first, I was a little ticked, because the forecast hadn’t mentioned the 100% chance of rain pelting me in this stretch. I had about 23 miles to go, and really hoped I was just riding through a small rain cell.

Then I remembered what another rider I met on the trail a few months ago said about his experience getting caught in the rain while on the bike.

“I enjoyed it,” he said. “I just decided to embrace it and it was fun.”

I think a little bit of the ability to enjoy rain on the bike is how warm you are. If you’re warm, sure, what’s the big deal about getting a little wet? But, if you’re freezing your butt off, your hands and toes are numb, uh, it’s kinda hard to embrace the situation.

I once rode an organized ride in the Sierra foothills from start to finish in the rain, since I had paid money to do the ride and didn’t want to feel ripped off by staying home. It wasn’t cold, it was the beginning of June, but it really wasn’t exactly warm either! At the halfway point where there were snacks, I got off the bike and it wasn’t too long before I was shivering and needed to move around. The brakes squeaked mightily on some steep downhills, to the point where the wheels were too slippery for the brake pads to fully grab the rims. So while I could slow down, it seemed like I better not have to stop, because I probably couldn’t! Seeing was difficult all ride long because of the droplets on my glasses. I couldn’t take them off, because I’d really be blind then without the prescription lenses.

I narrowly missed hitting a concrete lane divider, because of droplet-impaired vision, a very close call that would have caused me to crash.

I got home soaked to the bone and discovered a sloshing sound coming from my bike frame. I took off the seat post, turned the bike upside down, and a surprising pour of rainwater drained out.

A few months later I definitely didn’t embrace rain. That rain, which started while riding down the curving descent of a climb-heavy ride in the Sierra foothills, turned to sleet! My buddy Marc and I had climbed to the ride's turnaround point in heavy forest, where the weather was misty from the cloud cover, but wasn’t cold at all.

But then we started the descent. About two miles in, we hit a heavy rain cell that pelted us mercilessly. The air temp had dropped to frigid in a heartbeat, and as we slowed to navigate the turns in the rain, I began to hear hailstones popping off my helmet. Hands and feet were instantly numb, and Marc had pulled over ahead of me under a tree.

I just kept riding, not wanting to be in this situation any longer than possible. I hoped by descending more, the chances of getting out of it fairly quickly were good. Yes, eventually we rode out of the hail and rain, but the air was very cold for most of the remaining descent, so the tough part was braking with numb hands. Toward the end of the descent we hit some beautiful sunshine, and oh man, the warmth from those rays was welcome.

Last week I just told myself the rain I was riding through was nothing compared to that hail ride. I was plenty warm, just a little wet. Sure enough, after only a couple miles, the rain stopped and the pavement was dry. So I guess I took the rider’s advice and just embraced it. But I still say the air temp, if very cold, can definitely inhibit one’s ability to embrace riding in the rain. And hail can in no way be embraced when it is hitting you, freezing you, while you try to continue riding without a slip and slap-down crash.

So on that note, here’s a video that gives good tips on riding in wet weather and keeping the upper hand over a potential suffer-fest. Check it out…

On the trail

Passed I guy I often see on the trail, Ruben I call him for no particular reason. He’s a tall thin man with long black hair, cruises upright on his hybrid seemingly lost in his world. This time I smelled cigarette smoke as I came up behind him, and sure enough, he had a lit one in his left hand as he rode. Smoking and riding used to be more common, I’m thinking. I’ve seen photos of old Tour de France riders smoking while on their bikes. I read somewhere, that at the time, they thought it helped their lung capacity. Anyway, Ruben isn’t trying to win the Tour de France, he just cruises the trail for his own unknown reasons. But he’s out there a lot. His lungs might not be in the best shape, but his legs are probably pretty strong. Maybe smoking and riding is his mental therapy, and it works for him. Ride on, Ruben.

Til next time, remember to strap on a helmet every time you get on the bike. And then make sure to keep the rubber side down, ride safely and have fun.

-- Mark Eric Larson