I haven’t been taking Freida out much lately due to some of my own minor health issues, combined with bad weather luck and other factors. Plus my first road trip in forever. I thought about it a lot. But when I finally had my act together enough for a ride, she received an unexpected diagnosis.
Trek Bikes sent me a letter saying she was in danger of losing her pedals. It’s happened to other bikes of the same type. So today I had to take her in for a pedal transplant.
I’m happy to say they were able to handle it on an out patient basis. I waited while they performed the procedure and then took her home right after.
Unfortunately, it was drizzling when we came home, so we couldn’t go out together right away. I had to go do some other errands, too. But we went for a spin after dinner. Of course, by then, it was so late, I had to race the sunset to get in even a brief ride. I didn’t stop to take any photos.
We had a shorter, but more intense trip than we’re used to. A quick three miles at what would be average speed for my husband or son, and was Indy 500 level for me. No coasting. All went well, with no pedal loss, even with me pumping them furiously.
Looking at the shiny new parts made me realize how much Freida needs a wash. Sorry I’ve neglected you, girl. I have to work tomorrow, but I will try to give the bike a good scrub on Sunday.
Here’s hoping Freida and I both stay healthy enough for more frequent rides.
Final note: Here’s more info on the recall for anyone who thinks their bike might be affected. The pedals in question are from Bontrager.
The waters have finally receded around here, with trails opened up once again. I’m proud of myself for getting up early, after only three alarms, and setting out with *Frieda before it got too hot to ride.
We took the Wetlands trail today, and saw lots of pond scum — er, filamentous green algae. It’s beautiful in its own way. Here’s an informational page about it from the Missouri Department of Conservation. Turns out it floats because of bubbles it produces. And it’s a healthy part of the ecosystem, as long as it doesn’t take over everything.
The sky kept threatening rain all day, so Frieda and I stayed home. But it finally cleared enough that we felt safe going out after dinner this evening. My husband and son went along, too, though they rode off and left me a couple of times. (It’s okay. We all have phones.)
We’ve had a lot of storms lately, resulting in many closed roads around the area. I encountered a couple of muddy patches on the trail, but it was mostly okay. A few areas of standing water right off to the side.
I wanted to take more water pictures, but the one time I stopped, I got swarmed by mosquitos. Plus dusk was coming on. On one stretch, the only occupants of the trail were me, Frieda, the mosquitos and a deer. A doe ran right in front of me, but I didn’t get photos.
Here’s the only photo I snapped to document the water level. I’m pretty sure the creek is not supposed be nearly up to those apartment balconies:
I’m using some accumulated PTO from work this week. That means more bike rides!
In a previous life, a quarter of a century ago, before having kids, I used to ride a lot. I rode for transportation. And I took long bike rides with my husband. I liked cycling back then. But I’m experiencing a new level of joy with it now. Maybe because I’ve experienced a couple of decades of not being able to just go, of always planning even the smallest moves in my day around other people and their needs.
Summer has dropped itself on us here suddenly, as it does in Missouri. So I went out early (ish) this morning before it got too hot. I saw a fair number of bikers, runners and walkers on the trail, at least while I was still in city limits. I went out into the country a couple off miles before turning around.
On into the wild.
I’ll tell you this about myself on a bicycle — I’m not the fastest rider out there. I get passed by a lot of other riders. And I don’t care! That’s part of the joy of cycling alone. I don’t have to worry about keeping up with anyone. I set my own pace, stopping when I want and resuming when I want. I’m not competing with anyone.