Yesterday Valerie was ready for a little downtime and so I set off on my on for a bike ride on the Ashuwillticook Rail Trail. We had hiked three miles of the trail (six miles round trip) a couple of days earlier and I set out to ride its entire 11.8 mile length. I parked at the southern trail head in Lanesborough and set out.
After the first mile or so I started covering the same section we had walked, which includes some lovely lake views. Past our walking turnaround point at Rt. 8 in Cheshire the trail turned more remote, with fewer buildings in site and thicker vegetation surrounding the trail.
At about mile 10 I pulled into Adams. I decided to take a quick detour through the town, figuring that if I found a decent place to take I break I'd stop there; otherwise I would continue on to the northern terminus in North Adams. As I was riding through town I heard a loud "SPROING!" sort of noise. I've heard that sound on this particular bike before, but it took me a minute to realize what it was - a broken spoke. My Marin is a pretty bulletproof bike, but has a flaw in that the wheels have a low spoke count. I think this leads to too much stress on each spoke, leading to broken spokes. Over the years I've popped a few - mostly when I used to tow the boys in a bike trailer.
With the spoke broken the wheel went out of true, making the bike impossible to ride because the wobbly rim would rub against the brakes. In retrospect, I could have opened the rear brake to eliminate the rubbing and tried riding home. I'm not sure this would have been a good idea: I think I was better off broken down in the town of Adams than I would have been if the wheel had disintegrated further somewhere on one of those remote stretches of trail.
In my brief ride through town I had recognized that Adams is not exactly a happening town. Few businesses were open on a Wednesday afternoon. I chained the bike up and wandered into The Daily Grind, which I had already eyeballed as a place to take a break. It's a dusty old coffee shop and was completely empty save for the three people working these. When I asked for the cup of coffee the proprietor made clear to me that he didn't have fancy coffee drinks, just the Thermoses of coffee over on a side counter. He said he had tried fancy drinks and selling high end beans but "the town wasn't ready for it." I assured him that all I was looking for was a regular old cup of coffee. I poured myself a cup of what turned out to be a lukewarm brew and sat down at the counter. I explained my situation and asked if there was a taxi service in town. He seemed doubtful that I could get a taxi on short notice other than having one come up from Pittsfield, but he did give me the phone book so I could try the couple of services listed. Unfortunately, I had no cell phone service (cell phone service in the Berkshires is terrible!). I was about to ask them if I could use their phone when the proprietor came up with a novel solution - he had an old bike in the back he would lend me to ride back to my car. Then I could drive back, return his bike and pick mine up. Actually, he said he'd be just as happy if I made off with his bike! It had been sitting in the back for any number of years and he just hadn't gotten around to getting rid of it. Which gives you some idea what kind of shape this bike was in ...
I used my pump to put some air in the tires (Presta valves!), checked the thing over and off I went. I only filled the tires part way for fear of popping the old tubes. I also avoided shifting the front derailleur since it looked extremely gunked up. The rear shifted fine, so with the half-filled tires I had a hybrid which functioned in essence like a 7 speed beach cruiser. It was something of a nerve-wracking and uncomfortable ride - riding this too-small bike and praying it held together for ten miles, which fortunately, it did!
By the time I got back the restaurant was fairly busy and I got some strange looks as I wheeled a bike through the place. The owner was by that time busy with the dinner rush and so I gave him a quick thanks and went on my way.
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| View Along the Ashuwillticook Trail |
At about mile 10 I pulled into Adams. I decided to take a quick detour through the town, figuring that if I found a decent place to take I break I'd stop there; otherwise I would continue on to the northern terminus in North Adams. As I was riding through town I heard a loud "SPROING!" sort of noise. I've heard that sound on this particular bike before, but it took me a minute to realize what it was - a broken spoke. My Marin is a pretty bulletproof bike, but has a flaw in that the wheels have a low spoke count. I think this leads to too much stress on each spoke, leading to broken spokes. Over the years I've popped a few - mostly when I used to tow the boys in a bike trailer.
With the spoke broken the wheel went out of true, making the bike impossible to ride because the wobbly rim would rub against the brakes. In retrospect, I could have opened the rear brake to eliminate the rubbing and tried riding home. I'm not sure this would have been a good idea: I think I was better off broken down in the town of Adams than I would have been if the wheel had disintegrated further somewhere on one of those remote stretches of trail.
In my brief ride through town I had recognized that Adams is not exactly a happening town. Few businesses were open on a Wednesday afternoon. I chained the bike up and wandered into The Daily Grind, which I had already eyeballed as a place to take a break. It's a dusty old coffee shop and was completely empty save for the three people working these. When I asked for the cup of coffee the proprietor made clear to me that he didn't have fancy coffee drinks, just the Thermoses of coffee over on a side counter. He said he had tried fancy drinks and selling high end beans but "the town wasn't ready for it." I assured him that all I was looking for was a regular old cup of coffee. I poured myself a cup of what turned out to be a lukewarm brew and sat down at the counter. I explained my situation and asked if there was a taxi service in town. He seemed doubtful that I could get a taxi on short notice other than having one come up from Pittsfield, but he did give me the phone book so I could try the couple of services listed. Unfortunately, I had no cell phone service (cell phone service in the Berkshires is terrible!). I was about to ask them if I could use their phone when the proprietor came up with a novel solution - he had an old bike in the back he would lend me to ride back to my car. Then I could drive back, return his bike and pick mine up. Actually, he said he'd be just as happy if I made off with his bike! It had been sitting in the back for any number of years and he just hadn't gotten around to getting rid of it. Which gives you some idea what kind of shape this bike was in ...
I used my pump to put some air in the tires (Presta valves!), checked the thing over and off I went. I only filled the tires part way for fear of popping the old tubes. I also avoided shifting the front derailleur since it looked extremely gunked up. The rear shifted fine, so with the half-filled tires I had a hybrid which functioned in essence like a 7 speed beach cruiser. It was something of a nerve-wracking and uncomfortable ride - riding this too-small bike and praying it held together for ten miles, which fortunately, it did!
By the time I got back the restaurant was fairly busy and I got some strange looks as I wheeled a bike through the place. The owner was by that time busy with the dinner rush and so I gave him a quick thanks and went on my way.
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