Category: Bike stuff

Islands in the stream

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 28 Comments
The Rio Not-So-Grande on my birthday.

The annual birthday ride (in kilometers) is done and dusted. And on my actual birthday for a change, too.

I only needed 44.1 miles for 71km, but actually covered 45.3 (72.9km), so I have a few pedal strokes in the bank for next year.

My plan was to zip down to the bosque and log as many flat miles as I could stand before turning around for the long climb back to the foothills.

As I rolled out, the air down in the valley looked filthy, and I considered bailing, but then thought, “Nawwwwwwwww,” and soldiered on.

And I was glad I did. I’ve been caught in a loop of Groundhog Rides — basically the same 20-milers over and over and over again — and this was a refreshing change of pace.

There was a slight headwind as I rolled south on the lightly greened Paseo del Bosque trail to I-40, where I hung a right to snap a shot of the Rio Grande from the Gail Ryba bike bridge. More like the Rio Not-So-Grande. Too thick to drink, too thin for swimming.

Pic in hand, I pulled a U and enjoyed a tailwind to the Paseo del Norte trail, then took the usual route back to the rancho, along Bear Canyon-Osuna, up and over I-25, past the golf course and thence to Tramway via Manitoba, and home again home again, jiggity-jig.

Well, that’s not entirely accurate. I had to head south on Tramway to Rover and pull another U to collect enough mileage (kilometerage?) to make the nut.

And then I ate everything in the house and took a shower because hey: It was my birthday. I could do whatever I wanted.

In which the suckitude is minimized

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 11 Comments
The Soma Double Cross and I took five for a photo op’ at the foot of the climb to La Cueva Picnic Site.

Not everything sucks.

Case in point: I spent a couple hours on the ol’ bikey bike yesterday. And while the high temperature did not break the record of 83°, set in 2012, I found the observed high of 78° downright pleasant for the tail-end of March. Riding in shorts and short sleeves I was. Even had to break out the SPF 50 and the Pearl Izumi sun sleeves.

La Cueva Picnic Site has yet to open for the season. Being something of a scofflaw, I’ve been known to circumvent the barrier and ride the steep mile to the top anyway. But yesterday I gave it a miss. Still managed to bank 1,600 feet of vertical. So, winning, etc.

La Cueva is a reminder that the government is not always the problem. Listed in New Mexico’s Registry of Historic Places, it was the work of the Civilian Conservation Corps, part of FDR’s New Deal. According to the U.S. Forest Service:

There are stone picnic tables and structures built by master stoneworkers during the 1930s to blend seamlessly into the existing landscape. You will soon discover a rock pavilion that is hidden by the trees, plus other small structures sprinkled throughout the site. Keep your eyes open for picnic tables, vault toilets and fireplaces that are tucked away in nooks and crannies, throughout this site.

The pavilion, picnic tables, fireplaces, and toilets remain. But the road is in poor repair, which may be due to a lack of funds or part of a plan to keep vehicular speeds low. I know I tend to mind my manners on the descent. Shredding the gnar is one thing; shredding yourself is a whole other deal. Especially if the barrier’s down and the ambulance can’t get to you before you bleed out.

Remember La Cueva Picnic Area and the CCC whenever some fathead quotes that overdone ham Ronnie Reagan to you: “Government is not the solution to our problem, government is the problem.”

Even a blind pig finds an acorn. But it generally takes him a while. Forty-four years later Ronnie’s right on the money.

‘Just bump him, bruh’

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 22 Comments
The ghost bike installed by the Duke City Wheelmen in remembrance of Scott Dwight Habermehl.

“Just bump him, bruh.”

Sounds better than “Gonna hit him hella fast,” doesn’t it?

But the difference was no difference at all to cyclist Scott Dwight Habermehl, who last May was sent flying over the passenger side of a vehicle with three giggling kids in it — ages 15, 13, and 11 — and left fatally injured on the side of the road.

He was 63. Father of two. A Sandia National Labs engineer who was just cycling to work, as he had done for years.

Two of the three kids said to have been in the vehicle that hit him have been arrested, charged with an open count of murder, conspiracy to commit murder, leaving the scene of an accident involving great bodily harm or death, and unlawful possession of a handgun, according to the Albuquerque Journal. The eldest remains at large.

We’ve all been in this neighborhood. I’ve been right-hooked into a parked car; tumbled over the hood of an SUV whose driver passed me only to start executing a leisurely U-turn; narrowly escaped a homicidal trucker on a wide highway shoulder; had a full bottle of beer thrown at me from a speeding vehicle; been threatened with a gun.

The joke among longtime cyclists with a dark streak of humor is that if you want to murder someone without suffering any consequences, wait until your target gets on a bicycle and then hit him with your car.

But it doesn’t seem all that funny when you consider that two of these three suspects were charged — within days of the crash that killed Habermehl — in connection with what the Journal called “a weekslong crime spree that included a smash-and-grab burglary, shootings and auto theft.”

And yet nothing came of it.

The case against the 13-year-old was dismissed in August 2024 “when prosecutors failed to meet court requirements,” the Journal added. It’s not clear what happened to the charges against the 11-year-old.

Maybe prosecutors will “meet court requirements” in this instance, since (a) Albuquerque Mayor Tim Keller and Gov. Michelle Lujan Grisham have weighed in, and (2) we’re not talking about property crime now — this time, a man was sentenced to death by three children for the crime of riding his bicycle to work.

• Video: The Albuquerque Police Department provided this clip from a video said to have been uploaded to the Internets by those involved. APD says this triggered an anonymous tip, a homicide investigation, and what we can only hope will be justice for Scott Dwight Habermehl. Thank Dog for the stupidity of many of our 21st-century criminals. Back in the Day® we knew better than to rat ourselves out.

• Addendum: The third suspect is in custody.

And a Merry Sale it is, too

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 2 Comments
Soma Fabrications (a.k.a. the Merry Sales Co.) is at it again.

I meant to add this over the weekend but got distracted by feline maintenance, grocery shopping, cooking, bicycle riding, and what appears to be a remake of “Lawrence of Arabia” taking place on the property.

Still, better late than never, as the fella says. You can save big on Soma and New Albion frames and forks, but you gotta move fast — the sale ends today.

NOAA shit?

~ Patrick O'Grady ~ 26 Comments
Weather? Or not. …

Maybe it’s just that NOAA has been swept away by a tsunami of unitary-executive idiocy, but the weather reports around here lately are bordering on the comical.

Sure, that photo up top looks plenty ominous, but lots of stuff does first thing in the morning, especially since Jan. 20. By 10:30 the temps were in the mid-40s, and after checking the forecast I decided to drop my plans to go for a run and instead took my old road-racing bike out for what I said would be “a short ride.”

In terms of First World Problems this was an iffy proposition. Last time out on this rig I flatted the rear tire just a mile or so from El Rancho Pendejo, and trying to lever the sonofabitch loose of its rim to swap tubes was like trying to pry a Texas Republican’s lips from Beelzebozo’s diapered ass.

I did not want to be doing this in wind and rain. Or snow. But tomorrow’s weather looked worse, so off I went.

And whaddaya know? It was glorious. Bit of a wind, but going out and up it was mostly behind me. And when I turned around to head home I was able to duck in and out of various suburban neighborhoods and mostly keep it out of my face. Stayed out for 90 minutes of hills and even felt a bit overdressed.

Also, I didn’t flat. So, bonus.

When I got home, my iPhone told me it was raining. Huh. News to me. And fake news at that.

Herself, coming back from a run, said her iPhone was telling her the same thing.

I made us some lunch, then she hit the gym, and I rolled out to the bakery and the grocery. Still not raining.

By 4 p.m., it was still sunny enough for a haircut, so Herself broke out the clippers and had at me. Near the end of that process, which is like shaving a particularly lumpy and unlovely blue-eyed coconut, we thought we heard some raindrops on the skylight.

Rain me bollocks.

Nope.

And now my iPhone promises it will be raining in 26 minutes.

Huh. I guess it’s true what they say. You can’t believe everything you read. Especially if it has to do with stormy weather, in The Duck! City or the Oval Office.

P.T. Barnum was right.

• Postscript: And naturally, as of 7:24 p.m., it’s snowing.