On being immortalised in verse

In honour of my 50th birthday, Margo immortalised me with the following poem during a Zoom cocktail party. I reproduce it here with her permission.

A Moose of Many Bikes

For the wind in his hair his heartstrings they yearned.
At the age of fifteen, when he’d saved what he’d earned,
he went to the bike shop and spied in her glory
his very first steed - his dear Castafiore.

She took him quite far and he loved her no doubt,
but more distant horizons began to call out,
so he bought Leonardo when out in The West.
On some challenging rides he was put to the test.

Leonardo was game for the San Juans and Spain
and England and Scotland and more.
Then honed to his best he was put to the test
From western to eastern seashore.

Back at home Castafiore - left out at some length -
and ridden quite hard about town,
had a frame that no longer had structural strength.
Now she hangs on his wall with a frown.

Floria F. was his next urban steed,
and he kitted her out with a crate.
To hear of her treatment makes my heart bleed.
She in time met the same sorry fate.

Her components removed to a light Kona frame,
the new rig sans luggage went wheee.
Victor’s new purpose would not be the same
He’s out in front of a Défi.

But what would now serve for the workday commute?
And what about all of those books?
With Justin from MEC - and a trailer to boot -
the rig garners curious looks.

So raise up your glasses and toast our dear Moose!
He rides everywhere! He rides free and loose!
For roads yet to ride, may ideas never lack!
May the wind always be at his back! 

Thank you Margo!!!! 

Also, thank you Margaret for the screenshot.

On some minor events

Old rails

I was walking on the still active railway spur line along the Lachine canal a few weeks ago when I noticed that the plates holding the rails to the ties had dates on them along with the railway's initials. 

Some had the current CN initials in a manner close to the famous CN logo and relatively recent date, 1972 in this case.

Others had the older initials, viz CNR, complete with periods, as well as much older dates! I later observed that it wasn't just the plates but also the rails themselves that had dates on them. This was the oldest I noticed.

Unless I am wildly out to lunch, the dates are those of the manufacture of the hardware, so these bits of the line are nearly a hundred years old! Before any of you start calling Canada's first astronaut or the Minister of Transport demanding an inquiry, I submit the observation that this is and probably always was a low speed spur line serving industry. As such, the rails would have been under relatively little stress and wear. Furthermore, it is likely that some of the rails and plates may have been first used on main or branch lines before being re-used on this spur line.

Old bike frames

Last Wednesday, I set off on Justin with the trailer to deliver two boxes of books to the Library. It was a crisp and clear day. I didn't get very far. My right hand (rear) brake-shifter lever would only go backwards after the application of disconcertingly large amount of force, followed by a disturbing click then slackness which did not produce much braking force. I returned home, then used Communauto to deliver and pick up the books. I then brought Justin into the closest bike shop to see if they could figure out what the issue was. Thankfully, it was a matter of about 10 minutes of adjustment. While I waited, I noticed the bike shop had farmes of expired bikes as part of the decor. For instance, this gate barring access to the workshop area uses the frame of what I assume is a Cervélo.

This lamp is supported by another Cervélo frame.

Work these days

Yesterday, my parents held a virtual "April birthday party in November." If I may digress, an unusually large number of members of my family (including both my parents) have their birthdays in April. Late last century, the tradition emerged of having a collective birthday party slash family reunion for them, usually at my parents' house. For obvious reasons, this did not happen this year. A few weeks ago, my Mother decided to host a virtual "April birthday party" on Zoom. We ended up being about a dozen Zoom screens, spread out over 4 time zones, 3 countries and 2 continents.

One of my cousins asked me if I was still working at the Library. I said: "No, but I still working for the Library!" I then grabbed a book at my left to show the camera saying that I was at the very spot I work these days. I then produced a Cutter-Sanborn three figure author table to further illustrate my point.

On rain gear

 I think I got my money's worth out of my Activa rainpants. I bought them nearly 14 years ago at Capp's bike shop in New Westminister on the same trip as when I bought Leonardo. They spent most of their time in mesh bag of rain gear at the bottom of a backpack just in case it would rain. They came in handy in 6 countries on 3 continents, not to mention countless comutes. However, they were getting long in the tooth and the lining was ripped in a few places, including the posterior making them less watertight than one would wish.

I had settled on the Showers Pass Transit pants, which although nominally stocked by MEC, aren't available in my size from said commerce. So I decided to order them directly on-line. Earlier this week, I got an email from FedEx saying they would be delivered today. However, today is a Wednesday, so I would be out for some time delivering and bringing back books from the Library. Consequently, I used a link to FedEx to delay delivery for 24 hours.

As luck would have it, it was raining today, so I donned my rain gear and set off to the Library with two boxes of books in garbage bags on the covered bike trailer. Afterwards, I went to a shoe repair store in search of shoe laces. The guy behind the counter notice my waterproof shoe coverings (also made Showers Pass) and wanted to know where I had got them. I replied at MEC and tried to explain that they had the flaw that they aren't compatible with cleats. This proved a bit of a challenge as the conversation was in French, my French vocabulary vis-à-vis bike bits isn't as strong as it might be, and the fact that the guy's biking experience evidently didn't run to cleated shoes.

I worked at home until 8 PM and then ordered in a pizza. When it arrived, the delivery guy commented that there was a parcel at my door. Lo and behold, it proved to be the Showers Pass bike pants, delivered a day ahead of schedule!

On someone trying to ride my bike

 Earlier this week, I walked down my front steps and saw someone trying to ride my bike.

Or maybe just wanted a ride.

 

Or perhaps it was just a nice perch. ;-)

On drips and draps of stuff

I haven't been writing much lately, partly because I haven't been riding much and because I have been lazy. A case in point would be the following set of photos. 

As my readers can likely tell, I have a certain fascination with trains. Among other aspects, the historic, "small-scale" connections appeal to me. One small scale bit is how trains interfaced with factories back in the day. Back in my youth, we would sometimes drive into Magog to pick up people at the bus station, then downtown near the big textile factory near the river. My brothers and I would strain to see the "little green [shunting] engine" that was usually at the ready near the loading area of the factory.

Anyway, back in July, I was biking beside the Lachine Canal when my way was blocked a short train of grain cars leaving the Ardent Mills. Ardent Mills must be among the last true industrial businesses still going at the eastern end of the Canal. It also seemingly the only one I know of that still gets its' raw materials by such an old school method of delivery. The track going to the mill also has an odd shift in level of importance. It is obviously just a little line, less than a kilometer long, but it connects with the CN mainline between Montreal and Toronto at the far end!

 

Now that I think of it, one fond memory I have is of watching a train stop in North Hatley. The crew detached the first few cars from the rest of the train, then put them into the siding next to the Club. They then reattached the locomotives to the rest of the train and headed off. 

In other bits of biking news, a few weeks ago I was riding along de Maisonneuve with a couple of boxes of books in my bike trailer, when a guy in a truck rolled down his window to ask where had I bought the trailer. It turned out he went bike touring and thought it might be a good way of hauling his gear around. Nice to be appreciated.

On steel and getting home

The winds were calmer and more indirect today, which was good as yesterday proved to have consequences. I set off from Sorel, over a lift bridge to its sister city, Tracy. I was following the 132 rather than the Route Verte and was rewarded by the sight of a Rio Tinto steel and titanium mill, emphasis on the steel. It wasn't terribly pretty, but it was interesting to me. I have a certain fascination with industry.

All this stuff we have comes from countless processes and origins. To give just one germane example, as a mechanical engineering drop-out, I remember being amazed at the almost magical way iron and carbon come together to make steel, or rather steels as by small variations in the ratios and certain additives, there seems to be no limit on what characteristics you can coax from steel, except possibly lightness. ;-) And as an added bonus, I gather iron and its derivatives are among the most recycled materials. It also had the bonus of seeing a new to me variety of railway gondola car which looked particularly stocky and sturdy as if they were used to transport very heavy materials such as iron ore. The nearby autoroute, number 30, has the name "Autoroute de l'acier" as the area was and is a relative hotspot for the steel industry in Québec. I was to pass at least one other steel mill, this one having a conveyor belt system to carry ore (or possibly other bulk materials) over the 132 from the shore of the St-Lawrence.

The weather was sunny and cool and I felt I made decent time. I stopped for lunch at a restaurant in Varennes. While I was eating, another cycle tourist came it and asked for a table from which he could keep an eye on his bike. This proved to be the table next to mine and I could see that he had brought 4 water bottles in with him. (I later saw his "whee" bike with attached monowheel trailer: two bottles in the classic positions and two attached to seatpost.) We chatted a bit, though I fear I didn't give him enough props when he said he had started in Vaudreuil that morning as I couldn't recall exactly where Vaudreuil was. (I later found out that it is just off the West end of Montreal Island, meaning that he had already ridden approximately 80 kms that day.)

I attribute this mental fog to fatigue as even after lunch I found that I was relatively sluggish. Thankfully, Varennes was the beginning of the end with a nice, well-used bike path besides the Saint-Lawrence.

Google maps had suggested that the best way across the River was to use the Jacques-Cartier Bridge to get to Île Sainte-Hélène, then take the Pont de la Concorde. However, the Cartier Bridge is not familliar to me by bike. From taking the bus out to the Townships, I know that its' approach from the South Shore involves many twists and turns the logic of which appears opaque. Not something to be approached lightly. The Bridge also involves a considerable amount of climbing and indeed, it was the sight of it high above my level that proved the clincher. I took the the longer but easier option of crossing the Seaway at the St-Lambert locks, riding along part of the Circuit Gilles-Villeneuve to Île Sainte-Hélène, then taking the Pont de la Concorde. Then it was very easy to get home. I rode along a portion of Notre-Dame street that had gone from two-way to one-way to two-way in my absence.

It was less easy to haul Leonardo up the stairs to my flat as my left knee started to complain.

On fears realized and the colour red

I had been afraid what happened today would occur ever since leaving Montreal: having to pedal back into a stiff prevailing wind. It was blowing at least 30 km/h with gusts up to 50 mostly directly in front of me as I rode through mostly open farm country. The only real exception came at the very end of the day when there was about 10k of closely wooded bike path which was also slightly off the eye of the wind.

In addition, a few hundred meters from my motel in Gentilly, the road had been dug up from side to side in order to install a culvert. This explained why I had been able to sleep with the window open the night before. I portaged across the gap making two trips. I was not out of the woods as some kilometres later, I had to make another portage. As I was reattaching my bags, a female cycle tourist going the other way rolled up. She asked me how I got across. I explained how I jumped the ditch and warned her about the other location. She had a number of bags on the back of her Norco which looked like more trouble to take on and off than mine.

My route took me across two Abenaki Reserves. I felt a trifle worried about the fact that I happened to have worn a red jersey today. Perceived symbolism and all that. Of course, it was a bright red jersey, the colour chosen for visibility and my liking of bright red and nothing else. Mind you, much of me is now red having skimped on the sunscreen.

Home tomorrow and lesser winds forecast.