Mountain towns, bikes, and rain

The Mountain Fair in Carbondale had lots of bikes around, and perhaps the biggest concentration of Xtracycles per capita of any place I've been.

We managed to squeeze in a little travel before school starts again, by making a (rare for us) trip into the mountains. It takes so much coordination for all of us to go anywhere that we don't often lug ourselves someplace where we're not obliged to go. It was refreshing to get away, even for a little while, though the traffic both ways didn't do much to dissuade my frustration of crowded driving in the mountains. We ended up visiting Aspen, Carbondale, and Glenwood Springs.

Mountain towns offer some great bike spotting opportunities for an aging bike nerd such as me. The bikes to be seen did not disappoint. Foremost in my notice are the many vintage mountain bikes, some of which exhibit evidence of years of heavy action, while others appear nearly unused.  I saw far more neat old bikes than I had the chance to photograph,  but here are a few that I captured.

This circa early 1950s cantilever framed Schwinn has a bent seatpost and a newer saddle, but otherwise looked to be in fine riding condition with an admirable patina.

A matched pair of retina-jarring early '90s Klein Rascals shod in old time-y Specialized Ground Control skinwall tires, now pressed into kid transport service.

Lousy photo aside, this 1988 Fisher Hoo-Koo-E-Koo was mostly original, sporting a pair of Fisher Fattrax tires. Fisher Fattrax were my favorite treads from the old days, but were discontinued nearly 25 years ago.

Aspen's bike sharing system, known as We-Cycle, appeared to be well utilized and contributed to the town's bike-friendly vibe.

Of course the girls found lots of things to experience. The townspeople were friendly and happy to accommodate, especially at the Aspen Volunteer Fire Department.

A balloon unicorn and balloon Elmo came along for the ride. 

Back at home, we've had a lot of rain since Monday. Although this is Colorado's monsoon season, it seems as though the rain has been more intense the past couple of years. I suppose that's good for keeping wildfires at bay, though I'm certainly not accustomed to overcast, wet days. I don't know how people in wet climes survive.

The view from my office window is of pouring rain.

I took advantage of a break in the weather to take a Denver B-cycle ride, and ended up riding the elusive white B-cycle.

An enterprising fellow poses with his super chopper near the South Platte river.

A little tough to see in this shot, but that's a guy on a penny farthing commuting home from Denver to Golden. He's been an icon in the area for decades. I've talked to him on several occasions, but can't remember his name at the moment. 

Cherry Creek had been flowing over this bridge along the bike path moments before, as a result of an intense thunderstorm.

To complete a trifecta of oversized bikes spotted, I waited for the train with a doused hipster and his double decker bike. 

New bike instructive stickers in a light rail vehicle.

A fairly recently installed bike box near the Webb Building in central downtown Denver seems to be well utilized. 

My intrepid aspiring photographer enjoyed shooting some art at the Denver Art Museum.

Re-tubelessifying the Monocog

Nope. No sealant. Dry as a bone.

Last fall, I went tubeless with my Monocog as a test with the low budget do-it-yourself method. I've since ridden this super dependable bike nearly daily, on many different surfaces, including goathead infested Albuquerque. In all that time, I never had a flat, until a few days ago.

Off and on, I'd been wondering what was going on inside the tires during the past nine months, so when I went out to the bike barn and found the rear completely flat, it was a opportunity to take a peek.

First I tested to see if there was an obvious, egregious leak by pumping it up. The tire held air fine, though it lost much of its pressure in a few minutes. So, I popped one of the beads open and discovered that the Stan's sealant had disappeared.

I suppose it's more accurate to say that the pool of sealant inside the tire was no longer present, but lots of goo was adhering the bead to the rim. A puddle of sealant, or tire blood as Big Sis likes to call it, is essential to tubeless tire health by coagulating into small leaks, so its absence was the likely reason for the flat.

While I was at it, I was wondering how the Gorilla Tape was holding up, so I pulled the tire off to inspect. After carefully going over the whole surface, things looked good. The single layer of tape was still strongly adhered. Along the way, I cleaned as much goo off the rim as seemed practicable, paying special attention to the bead seating surfaces, so reseating the tire would go smoothly.

I also cleaned the tire beads, ending up with a pile of Stan's sealant boogers.

After I remounted the tire, I hit it with a shot of compressed air. Both beads popped confidently into place and the pressure held well. Bingo. So I cracked open one of the beads and added two ounces of fresh Stan's to the inside. Shake. Spin. Ready to roll for another several months. I'll just have to remember to have some valve stems with removable cores on hand next time.

In all, remarkably quick and easy, especially considering the epic struggle with the same brand of tire and rim that I experienced not long ago. In the end, it's been well worth the time investment, and gets easier each time.

Now, for no particular reason, some recent photos from my yard.

Another trip around the sun

In the middle of July each year around here, it's usually hovering around 100 F. This year, it looks as though we'll have a much cooler respite for most of this week. Today, we took advantage of favorable temperatures to hit the trail. I'd been looking for a reason to take Big Sis on a real trail ride, and marking another year for her was a good excuse.

We started things off as any good ride should, tanking up on fuel. You wouldn't know it by looking at her, but this kid can put away the food when she has a mind to do so. Once energized, we were ready to attack the climb that begins the Hildebrand Ranch trail. The weather couldn't have been better, never getting really hot, and the trail conditions were excellent. We had a great time and completed our loop before the rain arrived. Here's to many more years and many more rides together.

Eating lunch at the beginning makes for more efficient food carrying.

Pointing out one of the talkative prairie dogs that populate much of the area.

There's no shame in pushing. Forward progress is cumulative.

Lots of butterflies and other insects were enjoying a variety of blooms.

Champion at the summit of the climb. 

This butterfly seemed to like the taste of sweat and sunscreen.

She was certain that pixies lived along this part of the trail.

Riding a swooping trail through this field made us feel like dolphins in a sea of dried grass.  

More prairie dogs.

This colony had some prime territory. We stayed a while to watch the prairie dogs yip and scurry.

This valley was a prairie dog metropolis, spanning the whole area.

The trail, edging along the hillside was flowing and scenic.

Just as we were about to close the circuit, the clouds started to appear.

A trail crew of high school students had just worked on this section.

Once we got home, a celebratory root beer float was in order.

Quick and easy handlebar plug

Now all I need to do is polish off another bottle.