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Published: April 23rd 2013
Loaded St Mawes - Place ferry
The boat was open, the wind was blowing, and the rain was coming down.The map says we are in the Cornish coastal village of Veryan. The bike computer says we have biked 42.05 miles. Of course that doesn't include two ferry rides; one of them in a driving rain in an open 25-foot boat with six passengers, four bikes and the captain. And, fortunately for us, it does not distinguish between miles pedaled and miles pushed. Hubris has no place in the hills of Cornwall and any pride I had in the strength of my legs was left by the roadside hours ago. Mathew, our hostel host, snears at the idea that the hills of Scotland can hold a candle to Cornwall. We deeply hope he is right as Kathy and I have concluded the number of hills we have walked up as too many to count.
There are advantages to pushing however. You notice hundreds of soft yellow primroses bursting from the cracks in the old stone walls; nodding bluebells and tiny forget-me-knots. Many of the very narrow roads are bordered with high walls topped with blooming yellow gorse (think scotch broom with thorns). There are also advantages to only walking uphill as I learn to my sorrow on Day 2.
It begins with a brake pad rubbing on the wheel rim. A small problem you think. You would be wrong. Failure to fix the brake reveals a broken spoke. An attempt to replace the spoke results in an unbalaced wheel which results in having to dismantle the front brake. With the steep hills we are facing this means walking both up and down the hills.
The passing motorists are well used to seeing cycles pushed up hill. Down is another issue and four miles from St Austell a van with two women and two kids stop and offer me a ride to town. Sold! They are on their way to Liverpool with Dad's ashes. Dad wants to rest in peace with Mom.
Once in St. Austell and having met up with the rest of the gang, we troop to the library to find a bike shop. The friendly librarian uses the internet to find a bike rental place outside of town. We take my front wheel in a taxi and head out to meet John who assures us over the phone he can balance the wheel.
Warning: At this point Chuck and Paul should take an extra
dose of their blood pressure medication.
John mounts the wheel on a spinner to test the balance. He finds a place that rubs and grabs a spoke wrench to make an adjustment. He immediately breaks into a sweat. "Who is the 'wannabe' bike mechanic that messed wit these spokes? They are totally trashed." He takes off the tire and tube and gnashes his teeth again. "Who put on this sticky cloth tape? You should use rubber VIM tape. Who cut the tape? Is it the wannabe bike mechanic again? This is a royal mess. The spokes have all been trashed. Has the wannabe bike mechanic ever changed a spoke before?"
At this point I tell him that no one in our group wants to be a bike mechanic; we just want our bikes to get us from town to town. He ignores me and makes a few phone calls.
"Here are your options," he says. "I can order you a new wheel which will be here in a day or two. Frankly this wheel needs so much work it will cost you more to fix it than replace it". Presumably this means I leave him my handmade
On-road spoke replacement
The roads here are barely wide enough for one car to pass a bike, with walls/hedges on both sides. Luckily there was little traffic. Mavic wheel with Integra hub. "Second you can take your bike to the bike shop in Truro who has agreed to take a look at it in two (!) weeks. Or you can take it to my friend in Newquay." Newquay is on the north coast of Cornwall. We are on the south coast.
"My friend can look at your bike at 10 tomorrow morning. He only has 26 spokes and you need 32; but maybe it will work out."
We say good bye to John and take the taxi back to town holding my dismantled wheel sadly in our laps.
When we get back to Kit and Kathy, we tell them we need to take the train to Newquay. As we head to the train station with a one-wheeled bike and a wheel, inner tube and sticky VIM tape, we see an angel walking down the street. He asks me if I need my wheel fixed and leads us two blocks to a beautiful bike shop. Nick, the owner, says he can have the wheel fixed in an hour. I tell him our tale of woe and he shakes his head mournfully. He replaces seven spokes
and puts in new cloth VIM tape, just like what had been on the bike before. It is the best tape made, he tells us. He charges me $25 and tells me I have a perfectly "lovely" bike. I float out the door on a cloud.
We get Chinese take out and watch "The Hound of the Baskervilles" starring Basil Rathbone on the telly. Tomorrow we head for the moors.
-- Karen
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Elaine
non-member comment
Mid life crisis
Sure you don't want to reverse this trip and loll in Penzance? E.