Breakheart Reservation - September 17, 2025

 RIDE REPORT

Wednesday, 17 September 2025, Breakheart Reservation

Ride Leader:  Tom Allen

~27 miles, 10:00 am start from Winchester, MA

Riders (11):  Tom, Aiko Pinkoski, Armen Kasparian, David Goldberg, Frank Aronson, Harry Spatz, Karen Hall, Keren Hamel, Susan Broome, Wing Chow, and first-timer Michael Lonetto.

We met promptly at the Shannon Beach (newly renovated and organized) parking lot, with the number arriving by car and those by bike being approximately equal.  Riding through Winchester we had to deal with some construction and small detours, but once underway we explored some of the Tri-Community Greenway before getting through Stoneham and Wakefield.

After a wardrobe-adjustment pause, we passed Wakefield High School and entered the parking area for the Northeast Met Technical High School, which several of the riders recognized as a former starting location for the CRW spring century.  From there we entered the Breakheart Reservation and faced the choice of the hilly and fun route (as mapped in the CRW route) or the flatter, but still scenic, route.  There were takers for both options, so the GPS served as guide for the hilly route, while the ride leader guided those who opted for the more gentle path.  (The latter group's ride was hampered by some very slow tree maintenance equipment making its way along the path.)

We all met at the park headquarters building (see photo) and made use of the facilities.  Continuing on, we followed the route through some of the more obscure roadways (and hills) of Saugus, Melrose, Malden and Medford back to Winchester.

Four of us lunched al fresco at the Black Horse Tavern in Winchester center.

Report by Tom Allen.

Concord to Westford - August 27, 2025

RIDE REPORT

Wednesday, 27 August 2025, Concord to Westford

Ride Leader:  Gene Ho

~33.5 mi, 10:00 am start from Concord, MA

Riders (13):  Gene, Aliza Edwards, Armen Kasparian, Dmitry Gorenburg, Everett Briggs, Gary Williams, Gerry Sheetoo, Harry Spatz, Herb Kavet, Joel Bauman, Keren Hamel, Steve Hoffenberg, and Wing Chow.

Spur of the moment notice notwithstanding, the forecast for good weather overcame common sense and work responsibilities to induce a dozen people to sign up for the ride.  Of the twelve responders, thirteen of them actually showed up.  With many familiar faces at the start, it was apparent to me that many would want a faster pace than I could sustain.  To avoid testing the patience of the human arrows, I took a show of hands to form separate fast and slow groups.  The fast group started first and remained in sight for about five minutes.  That was the last we saw of them.  

Per the elevation chart on RWGPS, there's only one hill on the route and that's the last mile to Westford center.  Per the elevation gauge in my legs, there are a lot more hills.  But, unlike the hills in Harvard, which are easy to see with the many open vistas en route, Westford is more densely populated.  You know you're on a hill when your legs feel it.

With the effort needed to get there, the arrival at the Muffin Shop was all the more appreciated, and their products were eagerly consumed.

This was an educational trip.  We learned, from Everett, that range anxiety isn't limited to EVs.  On a trip via motorcycle to the northernmost point in Canada, gas stations were not abundant.  Even roads were not abundant.  The location of the last gas station and the capacity of the bike's gas tank made getting to the destination, and back, just barely possible.  But, there was some buffer - since Everett was camping, he had a gas stove and a one-liter bottle of white gas to fuel it.  In a pinch, the contents would work in the bike adding maybe ten miles to his range.   If it were I, I woulda eaten those ramen noodles cold and saved the gas (just in case).

One person got dropped from the fast group but was still too fast for us to catch up with them.  But, they did express some frustration at the slowness of the traffic light at the intersection of Bruce Street/Willow Street/Rte 2A.  I refer to it as the light that never changes.  The reconstruction of that intersection is now done and there is some improvement, but it's subtle.  The picture below shows the work in progress.   The street sign, outlined in yellow, has been moved and in its place is an actual traffic light post with a button to activate a pedestrian walk sign.  It's easy to bike right up to it.

The trick is to push the button, wait for the pedestrian walk sign to light (very fast), and cross at right angles to Rte 2A.  Not great but better than it was before.

I frequently fix other people's mechanical problems, but my smugness caught up with me.  My bike's fork started to wobble shortly after the start and I had to pause from time to time to fix the problem.  This consisted of my tightening the bolt on top of the stem.  Too tight and I couldn't steer; too loose and I couldn't steer.  For those who found my pace too slow, it was a real annoyance.  For those who thought we were going too fast, it was a welcome breather.   I eventually found a good enough setting and put up with the problem to the end of the ride.  At home, dis-assembling the head tube revealed an inexplicable situation:

There's some space, not much, between the headset bearings and the steering tube attached to the fork.  Otherwise, it would be too hard to remove the fork from the frame and it wouldn't turn easily.  That space is taken up by a split ring thrust washer whose snugness is controlled by the tightness of the bolt on top of the stem.  Somehow, this washer got displaced from its proper location and got pushed down into the open space in the head tube between the top and bottom bearings.   Without the washer in place, the steering tube was free to wobble in the space between it and the bearing.  I put the washer back into its proper position and all is fine now.  But, it's still a mystery as to how it got displaced - possibly due to one of the frequent dives into potholes with my weight on the handle bars (?).  Thankfully, I didn't have to call Uber.

Report by Gene Ho.