Friday, June 17, 2005

I'm Your Spokesman for Szechuan Nan

I have not been able to ride to work in a while because my bike was in the shop. Why? Because I broke a spoke on my rear wheel, again. That is about the third time in a year and that is three times more than most people ever see. I took the bike to my reliable mechanics at Turin and got a reasonably technical explanation about the geometric arrangement of the spokes not being ideal because of the design of the hub. I think it comes down to the fact that I am heavier than, shall we say, the anticipated rider; I put a relatively high number of miles on the bike; and many of the roads I travel are rough. So, now I have a new Mavic cxp 33 rear wheel and I am back on the road.

Wednesday, I rode to and from work. The ride in was cold and cloudy but pleasant. I made great time and had the wind at my back most of the way. But, on the way home, it rained. Started out as a drizzle and I decided to tough it out. By the time I was at the top of the Lake Shore trail, I had a small waterfall running down the front on my helmet. That was no big deal as I could not see through my wet glasses.

Today, was a really spectacular morning. It was warmer, no real wind and sunny. I had a pleasant ride and was distracted along the way by big thoughts. While working out the solution to poverty, I rode right past Pratt. Consequently, I turned on Devon, which is narrow, busy and loaded with belching buses. This took me past many Indian restaurants. One, the Jewel of India, struck me as particularly absurd. The sign in its window says "Indian Style Chinese Cuisine." What does this mean? Sweet and sour samosas, perhaps? Maybe they serve kung pao aloo gobi matar or tandoori wantons. I guess it is not really that different than fancy French-Japanese fusion food, but it strikes me as humorous.

The ride home was uneventful and, I am happy to report, without spoke breaking incident.

2 comments:

Anonymous said...

You should get contacts!

Larry F. said...

Sure, contacts: the easy way out. I believe I mentioned previously that I have an aversion to contacts. It strikes me as violating a million years of evolution to purposefully stick my finger in my eye. Not to mention fairly specific instructions from my mother. I'd rather get surgery, something that I occassionally actively consider.