Across, across, and away!

It is a little up, but my sister's upcoming wedding outside of Seattle is mostly all the way west, so I'll start by heading east. The closest airport is Bradley down in Connecticut, but by flying from Logan airport in Boston, the ticket was $100 cheaper, and that bought me a direct overnight flight when I can conceivably sleep. That was worth a slightly longer trip to the airport. Plus, it could be an adventure, hopefully within reason.

Last week I checked with my friend Sandy, who made it into his thirties before obtaining a driver's license. He's lived locally for thirty years and used to fly more regularly for consulting work, so I asked if he had any particular pointers for transporting myself to Logan by bike. Turns out, he would usually ride to the closest T station and train to the airport from there. I'm inclined to ride to the airport and use the bike rack INSIDE a parking garage, in view of a security camera, that was mentioned on a website I found, but haven't been able to find again.

Sandy did mention one more detail that had me thinking: he'd ride a "clunker" that he wouldn't miss too much if it didn't remain where he locked it. Hmm, I'd been planning to ride my current default get-around bike, which did come my way for the ridiculously low price of $25, but it's actually nice enough to miss if someone took it. I started thinking about the free department store bike at the end of someone's driveway I'd seen two days in a row a mile and a half down the road.

(I'm experiencing technical difficulties, so use your imagination to visualize a red Huffy Windsprint.)

It was still there! Then it wasn't, because I connected it to the hub on my rear rack and pulled it home. I am too big a fan of how low-end a bike can be and still be faster than walking, but after a hour of puttering, seeing how minimal the rack mounts were, and finally realizing that at maximum height, the stubby little seatpost would still set the saddle an inch and a half lower than my typical position, I decided to fly a different fish.

There was that nice that reasonably nice steel framed hybrid with a short travel suspension that I'd found a year ago. A little more puttering, and I even had it rideable. But that suspension fork, it was completely collapsed and the bushings between the stanchions and sliders had, well, slid, and they were no longer serving to keep the fork from rocking an inch forward and back. I think I could salvage the fork, maybe, but I redirected again, lest I lose myself down a worm infested hole.

(Greenish Crosstrail I really do want to have rolling reliably again once I figure out how to solidify the suspension fork that has a one inch threaded steerer)

Take three, I was back to the bike I'd found closest to my house, albeit a different street, last fall. This was more familiar territory, so to speak: an old, 26" mountain bike, like I'd been using for decades until the 700c hybrid bikes finally depreciated enough to entice me. It is decided low end, but of a bike shop, not a box store. It's also a huge 22" frame, but I'll be mostly riding roads, so the standover clearance of a road bike is fine. Even the clunky steel crank arms are heavy, but fine.

(It's blue and is branded as a rattlesnake)

I put it together, swapped to a less high rise stem and bars, and hey, I actually kinda liked the fit. Sold! With a rack added to the back and a tatty old handlebar bag up front, I rode it for my errands Friday. That was a worthwhile test. A mile  in, the derailleur pulley started protesting with a loud squeal, and refused to let the cranks spin backwards, but after fifteen miles of that, whatever caused the resistance wore away, so figuring a failed pulley won't strand me, I'm leaving it.

I did, however, rebuild the bottom bracket that started to complain after the loose lockring allowed the cup to spin tight ten miles from my return home. That was just before another front spoke snapped, like the three I'd already replaced to get the wheel running. Sure, I have lots of reliable front wheels that could take it's place, but I've already replaced one nineth of the spokes, so I'm just packing another eight spares, figuring fronts are easy to change.

I think it can. I think it can. I think it can make it to Logan. If not, there is a progression of transit options as bailouts along the way. When it does make it to the airport, and if someone does decide it's nice enough to steal, transit can return me to a five mile walk home, mostly on trail! Yes, I'm leaving super early, this afternoon for an evening flight tomorrow, to have plenty of margin for time, and adventure.