More Tech Talk & Some Travel Tips

Google bikes in Fremont

Last week I loaded my bike on the train for an over-night trip to Seattle. I got free fare with travel points from an Amtrak Mastercharge card, and I stayed at a new hostel in Fremont, which made for a very cheap quick get-away. The hostel room had three bunk-beds, shared with five other women, and bathrooms with shower, sink and toilet down the hall, for only $35 a night. The place is called something like The HotelHotel Hostel, and it was very clean and well-kept, with friendly staff and dramatic decor. The walls are mostly black, there is a glittery crystal chandelier by the front desk, and various funky-chic accents, with a honey bee theme. A cafe and music venue of some kind is on street level, right next to the stairs leading up to the lobby, so there was a lot of street noise even on a Thursday night. Also a 4am wake-up call from the city garbage trucks.

But that's Fremont.

Due to a misunderstanding about bicycle accommodations (my fault), I had to lock up my bike at a sidewalk rack over-night, which made me nervous, but I told myself "don't be paranoid, it will be fine, fine, fine" and it was. At least, I think it was.

Union Station in Seattle

I rode about seventy miles over two days, getting to and from the train station and trying out the Burke-Gilman Trail. What with the Bertha tunnel-drilling delay, and various other construction and street improvement projects, Downtown Seattle is a disaster area this summer. I got out as soon as I could, walking my bike up Pike Street, across the freeway overpass to the bottom of Capitol Hill where I found a bike route to the University District, then over toward Fremont. Even in the U-District there are a lot of street repairs in progress, and many direction signs have been vandalized so it's hard to find the way through gaps in bike routes. I visited Gasworks Park and the Ballard Locks, and walked and rode the Burke-Gilman Trail. I braved the Ballard Gap, a very rough and confusing section of the BGT, which Cascade Bicycle Club is campaigning to complete. But I made it out to Golden Gardens, for a walk along Shilshole Way and lunch at a cafe by one of the marinas. I used to take summer evening walks to the Coney Island hotdog stand by the public fishing piers at Golden Gardens Park, to get huge soft ice cream cones for a dollar. I was craving fish & chips, but their prices are too high for me now. It was good to see they're still there, though, along with so many of my old favorite haunts, elbow-to-elbow with newer, hipper places.

As mentioned in my previous post, I had done a kind of sloppy job of replacing the chain on my bicycle before I left. The drive train was noisy and raspy, but it worked fine, and I thought it would get better as the new chain settled in.

My spirit animal

Yesterday, back at home and running mundane errands, the chain jammed as I was riding up a hill, and it took a good ten or fifteen minutes of tugging, nudging and poking to work it loose so I could ride home. The poor bike did get dirty and banged around quite a bit on my trip, so today I set up my repair stand in the parking lot out back to give it some TLC. While cleaning the drive train I discovered that when I had put the new chain on, I had missed the guide-tab on one of the little jockey-wheels on the rear derailleur, so the chain was scraping on the outside of the tab instead of being held against the teeth of the cog.

I had used one of those magic gold-link chains that supposedly snap open and closed by hand, if you have strong hands and tough skin. I don't, but I can get old chains open using needle-nosed pliers. On the new chain, though, the gold link was too tight even with pliers. I finally had to use a chain-breaker tool to take out another link, thread the chain through the right way, then rejoin it with a second, used gold link. At least it's nice to know I hadn't cut the chain too short in the first place, and now my bike rides and shifts almost as smooth and quiet as new.

It took about three hours to do my regular, thorough clean-and-tune, plus the time to figure out what was wrong with the chain and fix it. I've learned to be pretty patient and persistent about figuring out mechanical stuff, even if I don't always get it right the first time. Still, all the time I was working, there was a part of my mind thinking someone must have tampered with my bike while it was on the train, or vandalized it while it was parked out on the street over night. And then another piece of my mind was saying, "Don't be paranoid. It's your own dumb fault."