The new bike is here, and I had a wonderful late fall rainy ride in which to contemplate it's appellation. The naming of an inanimate possession is not something that should happen quickly, or even, necessarily, at all. Nonetheless, I came up with various names, none of which stuck, but all of which are worth sharing:
- The Doobie Brother
- Mr. Jenkins
- Mocha Toker
- El Jefe
- Long Train Runner
The Surly is a magnificent ride, and a huge difference from my Gary Fisher Monona (the Grey Goose, as I like to call it). The Monona is meant as a light-use commuting bike. I pressed it into service as a touring bike; kind of like strapping a dachshund to an Iditarod sled. The old dog will do what you ask it; but not without shifty and mistrustful looks.
I'm not going to go too much into the details of the ride itself beyond saying that it was drizzling and raining most of the time, and my gear held up beautifully. I think I've got a really nice cold weather and rain gear set up, which is essential if I'm going to get in the saddle for any length of time during this Northwest winter.
Since it was the first time I gave the brand new Surly Long Haul Trucker a spin, I'll just give my impressions of the bike. My favorite thing about it is the feel of the frame. I've never ridden a steel frame and the difference is major. It lacks all of the jarring and creakiness of an aluminum frame, and feels more organic. It doesn't absorb the bumps and cracks, so much as it forms around them, and transfers the energy in a much more equitable and natural manner.
Overall, I felt as thought the bike had much more momentum and a mind of it's own. As if it were being drawn down the road, and I was supplying it's fuel. This is opposed to the feeling that I'm pushing the bike down the road and it's trying to slow down. I think this had to do with the increased weight from what I'm used to.
The weight difference between the steel frame versus the aluminum, is noticeable, but not bothersome to me, since I'm never in any kind of hurry. It's a little heavier than what I'm used to, but that's small trade-off for the comfort of the ride.
Had one minor equipment failure: about 8 miles into the ride, at the furthest point north on the island, my seat suddenly dropped. I don't think the guy who put together my bike tightened the seat clamp enough. He was probably anticipating that I would immediately alter the height myself. Regardless, it dropped, and I couldn't sit down till I had pedalled the 8 miles back into town, to the bike shop, to buy a $10 multi-tool. I was in high spirits, so the inconvenience didn't really bother me.
Around about mile 20, I was supposed to go up the steep side of Toe Jam Hill, a climb that I've done many times. But I was feeling weak and cold and decided to take it easy and go back the way I came, a long, flat stretch of 5 miles along South Beach and Fort Ward. At mile 30, I got jittery and light-headed, so I stopped for water and hummus pita and hoped my nerves would chill out.
32 miles and I was way more pooped than I had any right to be. I can tell it's going to be a struggle to come out of this winter ready to hit the road right away. Maybe I'll join that gym like I've been threatening lately....
