Springwater Trail, Part I

I didn't bring lights, fenders, or chain lube with me on the 9 hour flight from Tokyo to Seattle, so I rode the Univega into town to the nearest local bike shop, Gresham Bicycle Center. The guy showed me some cool stuff before I went ahead and purchased the least expensive version of each item. On my way out, I grabbed one of these:

Printed with soy-based ink. Gluten-free.

Super handy! The map legend indicates bike lanes, bike paths, traffic heaviness, which roads will probably kill you, and water fountains! It also has local laws and policies, because knowledge is power the police will give you a ticket for not having a tail light.
One of the longer multi-use paths on the map was the Springwater Trail (purple line I'm pointing to).

The red and black lines are where tractor trailers drive two-abreast!

It's one of those rails-to-trails paths, which is great, because they tend to be flat and my current ride excels at anything that is not an incline. So after missing the turn several times (I neglected to actually bring the somehow-both-biodegradable-and-water-resistant map with me) I came to one intersection of the trail:

I had the choice of riding the trail east or west: Portland city proper to the west and a town literally named Boring, Oregon on the eastern terminus of the trail. Pretty easy choice, if you ask me.

So to Boring Oregon I went. The trail itself was very pleasant, kind of vignetted by a green moss, with trees on both sides and probably a watershed or two, though I'm not certain what that means.

It even had a turn-off (turn-out? exit ramp?) for horses:

Most horses understand the international horseshoe symbol.

Every so often there were benches under little roofs, so if you were caught unprepared in the elements you could wait it out until it stops raining-- which is sometime in February.

The sign had approximated 26 minutes to Boring, so I opened up my stopwatch app on my wrist-computer and timed it. Then I got to thinking, is it 26 minutes by bike or on foot? ...Or by horse? I made it there in 22 minutes with the Safari, which is akin to riding any other bicycle with a battleship anchor U-Locked to the seatstay.

They must've meant by horse.

I don't have any photos from Boring Oregon, because there was surprisingly little of note there, but here is a "cockpit" view of the ride.

Impressed I can ride with one hand, are we?

Eventually, but probably not on this trip, I'll scope out what the west leg of the Springwater trail has to offer. Because this is Portland, I imagine the trail is rife with Whole Foods and microbreweries, and eventually just turns into the line for Voodoo Doughnuts.

Blog post ichiban

Happy New Year! Well, almost. Tomorrow is New Years Eve, and I'm determined to get this blog up and running by then, so I'm writing this post now. Q: Was "starting a blog" my resolution this year? A: Plausible.
Anyway, let me preface this with a disappointing fact: The name of the blog implies that I am writing this from overseas, while the harsh reality is that this very minute I am very much on U.S. soil. I know, I know- false advertisement. But don't touch that dial! The Mrs. and I are just here for the holidays, and then we will be flying back to Japan shortly hereafter. And besides, we're staying in Portland, OR which apparently is American bicycling mecca.
Next topic: take a look at this-

Univega Safari 10

 I'm generally a fan of lugged steel bikes, and I'll overlook many other issues if I can find one in good condition. This particular one is older than any others I own, but it was largely rust-free, the tubes held air, and it was $100 on craigslist. I wiped it down, lubed the chain, and went for a nice ride... thusly bringing to my attention the aforementioned over-looked issues:

1. Weight. Yes, steel is heavy, but this is heavy. Not as bad as the 70's Schwinns, but this guy makes hills challenging.

LIGHT is an acronym for something, because it doesn't describe any attributes of this bike.

2. Steel rims. Apparently, these 10-speeds came standard with steel rims, the virtues of which I have yet to discover. What I do know of them is that braking takes awhile; unless it's raining, in which case you might as well not count on stopping.

You can shave with these things. Also: dry rot tires, still holding on!

3.  Cottered cranks. This last issue isn't so much an issue once you learn how they work. I haven't learned how they work yet, but sheldonbrown.com says to hit them with a hammer from time to time, and so far that has been working.

So, nothing wrong with this bike that isn't typical of most 70s/80s 10-speeds, but it's definitely a departure from the relatively modern ones I'm accustomed to. I was really just looking for a budget bike to get around on while here in the States, and having previously owned a Univega, I knew they were mostly manufactured in Japan and decent bikes all-around. If I were going to be riding this more often I would probably switch out the saddle for a Brooks, replace the foam grips with proper handlebar tape, and get some aluminum wheels on this thing; but, for now, it stays as-is.

Last things last, I would like to thank the writers out there who have inspired me to get this blog going. In no particular order: Constance Winters of Lovely Bicycle!, Kent from Kent's Bike Blog, and Alan from the now-retired EcoVelo. If any of you eventually read this, my sincerest apologies.