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No obvious problems, nor change to my knees, after yesterday's ride. I tried to keep my cadence up around 95rpm as much as possible. Even going up to a steady 105rpm by deliberately under-gearing on longer climbs. It is odd how even 11 gears x2 are often too far apart to find just the right resistance. The price of choosing a wide ratio cassette [12-34T.] To match my age and foolish ambition as a mountain goat.
I had been expecting a new bottom bracket axle in the post. So had dismantled the chainset and cleaned the whole trike. Even gave the stainless steel frame a going over with red Scotch-bright abrasive felt. Which is precisely why I order Reynolds stainless steel for my Trykit. I knew I would never maintain pretty paintwork properly.
The axle didn't turn up so I put the drive train back together after a soak in Engine Cleaner and a good rinse with a watering can. I should strip the rear axle and 2WD but am not in the mood given my very low mileage these days. I haven't zeroed the computer so it's showing 190 miles since the last battery change sometime in the spring.
There was a 45 degree headwind for the first half of yesterday's ride. It didn't bother me too much as I was going well. Coming back was a bigger test with my route taking me over a local hill from a valley. My knees started hurting on the last, long climb. Though it didn't slow me once I'd reached the top and could begin the descent to the last leg.
My breathing was no worse than usual with my lungs feeling slightly bunged up by wetness. Too many decades inhaling dust on an industrial level. Cycling helps to clear it out for a while. I seem to clear my throat every few minutes but would never describe myself as breathless. Not even on climbs. The Danish quack decided it was an allergy to a common, roadside weed, in season. That doesn't describe a year round "wetness" in my upper respiratory tract. Even at the height of my near 10k miles per year I had to keep clearing my throat.
I smoked for 20 years, from youth, but gave it up in 1984. I used to have a bout of URT every year until the doctor finally refused to prescribe me any more antibiotics. I'd never have smoked had I not had my racing bike stolen at 17 when I was already obsessed with cycling. It was my own fault for not locking it as I parked it briefly outside the house on the pavement.
It was found a fortnight later, dumped outside a prison, in the next town. So the police thought it was stolen by a prisoner to return from weekend leave. Not only had they stolen it but somebody had kicked the wheels in. Hand built to order, Stainless steel, DB spokes, Campag Record, LF Q/R hubs with 5oz, wood insert rims and Milremo tubs. No respect!
Yesterday I was wearing "racing" cycling shorts [as usual] and perfectly comfortable at around 50-52F. Fingerless mitts too and didn't even notice the air temperature. My recycled, winter cycling jacket provided the perfect level of comfort over a normal racing jersey. I unzipped the front of the jacket slightly on some of the long uphill drags to stay cool. For a supposedly flat country this bit of West Fyn has very few, truly flat stretches of road. It isn't difficult to find routes where hills dominate. I have always loved climbing hills!
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