32. TELL US WHAT’S BEHIND THE DOOR KEN....

500 words on Chainsets and ring sizes.....GO.

Right. This....

...is the drivechain on my current bike. If you look closely (or alternatively click on the picture so you can see it in all its slightly larger glory) you will see that it has 3 sprockets (or chainrings) up front and 7 count ‘em 7 on the back. This gives me a total of 21 gears with which I may either grind my way breathlessly up the mightiest incline or propel myself at breakneck speed in the direction opposite to that.

Sounds impressive yes? But wait. Most modern mountainbikes of even half decent quality have at least 9 rings on the back and up to 3 on the front for a total of 27 gears. Stick a 10 ring cassette on the back and it’s 30.

You should take a second to be suitably impressed by this...

The front chain ring I have just ordered is this one...

...a cursory examination of which will reveal it has 1 ring up front. Now it is my plan to have a 10 speed cassette on the back but this still leaves me with only 10 gears to play with.

While recognising that most of my usual readership are even NOW saying - 'Whatever. Please return to posting embarrassing photos of yourself as a child?’ - at this point, I feel I need firstly, to post an embarrassing picture of myself as a child

...and then to explain – I do have a rationale.

See 30 gears sounds like a lot, but in reality you only really end up using a few of them most of the time. As an experiment, I have been riding around for the last month using only the middle ring up front to simulate what it might be like to run a 1x10 drivetrain and haven’t found it that difficult. The only time I’ve felt the need to slip down into the very lowest gears (aka the Granny Gears) was on my most recent unsuccessful attempt to climb the first hill on the way up to Finchley Trig. I still didn’t make it and frankly don’t think the use of any gear that isn’t located in a car towing me up that particular hill would have made any difference.

Which still doesn’t explain why I wouldn’t just go for a triple or double ring setup anyway and have the gears just in case, especially since they don’t cost that much more than the single ring I’ve ordered once you include the price of a chain device (explanation COMING SOON to a blog near you) and the extra ring I ended up buying to give me a 34 teeth option that more closely matches what I currently use on the Mongoose (teeth - as in the number of teeth on the chain ring – less teeth up front = easier lowest gear).

So why? I will tell you. It means I can do away with a front derailleur (the thing that moves the chain up and down the front chainrings) plus it’s associated cabling and levers. Likewise the 2 extra chainrings. It should reduce weight (though admittedly I could achieve more efficient weight loss by not sinking quite so many beers and/or cheesy toasted sandwiches). It eliminates the need to be shifting up and down the front rings which is more efficient and less traumatising for the poor chain. And I’ll be a man about it – I reckon it’ll look cooler. 

If it means I have to work a bit harder getting up the hills then that’s kind of the point of doing all this exercise in the first place and I should just HARDEN UP and get on with it. Right? Right.

I suspect it works in my favour that my current bike is so old I’m kind of used to working with less gears than the total wussbags that are used to 25 gram bike weights and 87 gears anyway.

Next: Explaining more shiny bits....

31. ENTIRELY NOT BRAIN SCIENCE.

Pedals and stuff. Keen followers of the Blog (that’s 6 people that I know and a whole lot of people from Russia according to the statistics supplied to me by Google) will know that I recently took possession of the frame that will form the skeleton of the bike it is my intention to build.

So I’ve now gazed lovingly at its beautifully formed lines and curves for a couple of weeks, dealt with the inevitable nagging guilt that is associated with any purchase over a certain amount that cannot be eaten, employed in the creation of income or the completion of the house and finally started to realise just how far from a complete bike it is.

As it’s not my intention to buy all the bits at once on the grounds that the arrival of it all in one chunk would possibly make my head explode in shocked horror, the question is – which bits should I get first?

The temptation here is to go for a set of wheels, purely on the grounds that the addition of said wheels would go the furthest towards making the two triangles of steel I currently have, look most like a bike in the shortest amount of time. Of course it would be a bike without a means of steering, stopping or propelling which is not much of a bike at all, but still. I eventually decided against this option on a number of grounds (besides the inability to steer/stop/propel I mean).

Firstly, it would cost a lot. Not just for the wheels, but for the fork and headset that I would also need to get to attach the front wheel to the frame. I do note that this is a cost that I will inevitably have to outlay at some point and that my reasoning here is not something I want to shine the bright light of logical thought onto. But right now, I’m having enough of an issue dealing with the reality of my expenditure up to this point so I reckon psychologically I could use a break.

Similarly, the sheer size represented by two wheels and a fork is a bit intimidating. Just the box it would no doubt arrive in would just scream ‘Oh this is fully serious now you idiot! What were you thinking?.....Moron.' I get enough of this kind of thing from actual living organisms and do not need it from an inanimate box (however large and well built) as well.

I suspect the main reason however is the hack sawing. See, an inevitable part of the attachment of the forks to the frame is the cutting of the fork tube to fit (assuming I don’t want to go for what would be a fairly absurd and impractical extreme dragster look that would entail the use of a seriously ridiculous number of spacers). And that’s not something I can afford to screw up. So I’m thinking I might get into that once I have convinced myself, even a little bit, that my mechanical aptitude is up to the task. So not right now then.

And that’s why I ended up buying this lot....

Next: What exactly ‘this lot’ is....

30. TOTALLY NOT ROCKET SURGERY.

I like bicycles. That is fairly obvious to anyone casting more than an extremely superficial glance over the contents of this Blog. It is my belief that the lives of anyone who comes into contact with these wonderful devices is enriched by the interaction.

Which is not to say that there aren’t a number of areas that I can’t help but think could be improved somewhat.

I would very much like to know, for example, why the brakes supplied on nearly all kids bikes are so entirely crap. I’m talking about the entry level bikes here. The very first bike that most children will sling a leg over. Right at the point in their bicycle riding career where just about any negative experience has the power to forever taint the way a developing mind views the pastime and even most fairly reputable manufacturers don’t seem to be able to attach a handbrake to their products that will stop the bike worth a damn.

Sure, they all come with backpedal brakes that work effectively enough. But they depend on your feet being in the right place to properly apply them and when a kid needs to stop suddenly (like just before they plunge down that embankment onto the 6 lane highway) they are often not in a state of mind to correctly position their frantically whirling legs.

Most modern adult bikes come equipped with disc brakes that can stop dead a wheel with the pressure applied by one finger, even if the bicycle the wheel is attached to is plummeting down a nearly vertical cliff face. Sure, those brakes cost a bit more than the two bits of rubber and shitty metal that comprise the brakes attached to my little girls death machine, but I seriously reckon the subsidising of higher quality brakes on bikes like hers would pay a dividend in terms of kids who end up riding for their entire lives instead of quitting after some ineffective brake related riding disaster.

Small exaggeration but this is JUST LIKE the bicycle I had to ride at the Western Plains Zoo.

Likewise, the industry could to a lot worse than provide free (possibly second hand) bikes, or at least people who could effectively maintain the piles of twisted steel that pass for bikes in establishments like the Western Plains Zoo that hire them out to unsuspecting punters who wish only to have something moderately comfortable on which to ride around and see the nice animals.

I mean this is an opportunity for the industry to get it’s hooks into a group of people who probably haven’t ridden a bike since they were teenagers and they end up rattling around on noisy, wobble wheeled nightmares that probably ensure they won’t do it again until the one they get issued in heaven by the angel in charge of environmentally responsible transportation....

Next: Drivetrain. Woot.

29. UNASHAMED PARENTAL BIAS

Carbon Fibre Basket. Fully suspension dolly seat. Super duper over/under slung single action dingly bell. It as it all....

Look at that piece of finely engineered bicycle. Went for a ride with my daughter on it the other day. Which is to say she was on that bike and I was on mine. I have ridden her bike but it’s not very comfortable and she gets nervous I might break it (a fear that has some validity) so I don’t do it anymore. And I was so proud. Half way to school and back we made it and up some fairly big hills (for a 7 year old). Brilliant for her confidence it was too. So brilliant in fact that she ripped down the first part of our dirt driveway straight into a rut and over her handlebars.

Knocked her shoe right off.

Cried for about 2 minutes then laughed at the fact that her shoe had come off. Little hard arse.

I can tell she’s still not entirely convinced about the whole bicycle thing though. For starters she keeps bringing up Pony Club and referring to all of the horses we pass on the way to school (which is a lot) by their names (or names she has made up for them) which I suspect is not a good sign.

If only she can figure out what a good wicket she could be on. I mean lets be honest – If she gets into cycling she’s going to get some totally righteous gear. It’s not like she’s ever going to get into Rugby or any of those other ‘boy’ sports so she might as well gouge me for everything she can on the bicycle front.

Don’t get the wrong idea here. I’m not actually going to stop her doing say, netball or ballet or horses (though I’ll be mounting some fairly robust financial responsibility arguments for the latter because NO WAY am I going to get stuck with feeding, exercising and ultimately digging a bloody great hole for a pony when she decides she’s rather more interested in boys and whatever Facebook has morphed into by that time) and I’ll be right there cheering/quietly applauding her all the way.

But the fact remains – I like cycling. So if she likes cycling she’s much more likely to get a really good bike than, say a really good netball if that turns out to be her thing.

I’m sure that makes me a bad father.

Next: Intentionally damaging my child.

28. ENTIRELY LACKING CONTEXT...

Check that out. I wrote about both of these bikes a few weeks(?) back. I suspect if you go back and read those Blogs (go on – I dare you) you will probably end up scratching your heads, much as I did when I stumbled upon these photos whilst trawling through some of the less visited sections of my hard drive, and saying – ‘I do not recognise these from the descriptions given’.

Psychologists, because theirs is a bizarre and sadistic profession, have many times pointed out the unreliability of the average human being’s memory (I suspect mainly so they can present their findings as evidence when they end up in court for doing all those drugs they claim they only obtained for ‘research’).

I personally have been run through the whole ‘guy runs into your lecture then out again and NOW what colour underpants were poking out the top of his jeans’ experiment a number of times. Including once in the army, where I should have thought the actual question should have been – ‘How did that terrorist get through our security and into this lecture and furthermore – why didn’t any of you Officer Cadets waste him before he could leave?’

I would have sworn blind that that tricycle was a good deal smaller than that and the bicycle a good deal larger (I did get the colour right though). I am not surprised I have no memory of the clothes I am wearing as they clearly fall under the heading of traumatic memory loss (note also the lack of appropriate footwear and skull protection).

I have a similar relationship with hills. I will drive up a hill (and there are many around here) and think, this isn’t that steep, I might give this a go on my bike next week. Of course once the human powered transport gets halfway up the hill the brain perched atop it is making it quite clear that this hill is in fact a Bloody Big Hill and what the hell were you thinking attempting to drag me up it.

The actually quite reasonably sized hill is then pushed through the filter of my own poor fitness level and comes out the end as a mountain quite similar in size and shape to one of those Mega Volcanos on Mars into which you could apparently dump 1000 Melbourne Cricket Grounds (and perhaps a similar number of gum munching Australian Cricket players).

The really bizarre bit is how after a couple of weeks, my brain once again starts to think it might be a good idea to go up the hill again.

It’s all very curious and makes no kind of sense that I can think of except that I suspect without exactly this kind of brain based mind shenanigans no female in her right mind would never have a second child (certainly if the carry on involved in the production of my first is anything to go by).

Next. ...from whatever cave I have been banished to after that last comment gets around....

27. BURGLERY WITH........BONUS

Are you familiar with the term ‘Motherhood Statement’. It’s basically the act of stating something that is bleedingly obvious in its desirability, usually in the course of an argument. For example – ‘It is my firmly held belief that the selling of drugs to small children is TOTALLY unacceptable and I will NOT be swayed from this stand(see here – I am MAKING A STAND)point by anyone (as he or she not quite accuses his or her opponents of being entirely IN FAVOUR of selling drugs to small kids).

Skilled purveyors of the Motherhood Statement also manage to make it seem as if what they are saying is actually quite daring and courageous and possibly not to be expected from them or anyone else not possessed of the necessary guts and intestinal fortitude (guts/intestinal fortitude -that’s another thing this kind of person likes to do – say the same thing twice but slightly differently) to GET THE JOB DONE.

Politicians LOVE Motherhood Statements.

I say all this to illustrate that I know a statement of the bleeding obvious when I see one and would therefore like to say, in advance, that on balance - Electronic gaming is a Bad Thing and I will ONLY mention that I have won money at it on several occasions to illustrate that – I am fairly lucky at the winning stuff thing.

Obviously not VERY lucky or I would have won the lottery at some point and be typing this on a much more expensive laptop while checking out, well, probably a very similar view actually but definitely from a much more comfortable chair.

Good at winning small stuff though. Meat trays, chooks, ‘time to cash out’ amounts on the pokies and the odd beautiful wife and child.

And - just in case you thought all those ‘Win a Insert Sponsors Product here’ magazine competitions were corrupt, dodgy and resulted only in the editor’s wife scoring a long string of ‘Insert Sponsors Product’ - a mountain bike.

It was a green and white Scott Boulder and I won it by completing a 25 or words less type competition and I assume having it pulled out of whatever hat they pulled stuff out of at Australian Mountain Bike Magazine back in the early 90’s (though some cartoons I also did got printed in the magazine so maybe it wasn’t just dumb luck).

I had the Boulder from when I finished Uni, through my time working at Long Bay (as a Nurse) and for the first couple of years I was doing community work at Manly. Did exactly zero actual mountain biking on it (unless you count hopping up and down gutters) and I think it spent a lot of it time with totally treadless road tyres on it, but it was a good bike that did a lot of kilometres mainly due to the fact that this was a period during which I genuinely did not have any other transport option having moved out of home (again) and away from any parent owned vehicle I could conveniently bludge a loan of.

Not that happy then when I came home one afternoon to find it missing, the Unit door open and a human pooh on the landing.

Here’s another Motherhood Statement – People thieving stuff from honest and hard working nurses should not drop faeces on the staircase on the way out.

Next: My relationship with hills.

26. FRONT ROW. AND PROUD OF IT.

Here’s an interesting fact about me. Though I have spent the last 20-25 years playing Rugby, I did in fact play Soccer up until I was 14. I suspect this was largely down to the quite significantly smaller chance of my 12 year old body ending up at the bottom of a pile of other 12 year old bodies at least as far as my parents were concerned.

My career goal count was 2 (plus an own goal that nearly burst through the net such was the power and authority with which I delivered it into my Teams gaping goal mouth). It would be lyrically tempting to describe my career as starting at the front and sliding gently backwards, but to be honest I never came near being placed in the forward line (save one or two instances when some kid targeting pathogen had effectively wiped out all other options). I think I started in the halves, moved rapidly to the backs, into the goal and finally off the field entirely.

Just to be clear – soccer, particularly kids soccer, in the 70’s, in Australia, was not a place that valued the skill and subtlety of a good defender. If you were keeping goal it was because they were trying to keep you out of the way while the cool kids got on with scoring all the glory.

And sadly soccer, a game that I still quite like and respect, really quite effectively removed all of the advantages granted to me by the body I was given by God (and I say God because how either me or my brother for that matter came out of my parents distinctly mid-sized person genes is something of a quandary).

I am quite a large man. Not tall. Large. Slightly less large of late but that is definitely a work in progress. Even at my lightest, I still had big thighs and a neck that is described as ‘short’ or ‘strong lookin’ by the tactful and ‘missing entirely’ by most.

In short – I have the body of a prop. And not one of these modern day ‘mobile’ props that are actually failed flankers trying to move up a few grades that do just fine until they come up against a real prop from the Veldt or some South Pacific Island who relocates their spine to the general vicinity of their rectum and makes them look silly on national TV. I have the body of an actual prop.

Which is why I was able to play the position for 25 years without ending up in a spinal unit or permanently hunched over trying to get the feeling back into my fingers.

While being a prop is a fine and honorable calling, there are some things that are just not compatible with it. Slim cut just about anything for example. Fashionable hairstyles. White boots (and it is increasingly difficult these days to find a pair that is not). Bacardi Breezers. Skivvies (for any reason other than a deeply ironic piss take of a certain Eastern Suburbs Suburban Rugby Club). And road bikes.

Yes road bikes. Everything about them is skinny. Their tires, wheels, frames, handlebars. Even the clothes worn by those who ride them. Skinny and weak. Ride one of those things up a gutter (particularly with my ever increasing weight perched on top of it) – pinchflat. Hit too many of the bumps that are such a feature of Sydney’s chronically de-prioritised road network – cracked frame, busted spoke or suddenly wobbly wheel.

But then. In the early 90’s. There came a type of bike that epitomised all that might be ‘Front Row’ in the bicycle world.

Welcome to my world – The Mountain Bike....

Next: The, um, Mountain Bike...I already said that....crap.