Riding in the Northwest year round means something is covering my ears the majority of the year. Although we are toasty now, I remember how naked I feel every year when spring comes and I leave on a ride without anything on my head but a helmet. When I have a beanie or earband under my helmet I don't notice the little clicks and creaks that come from nowhere. Perhaps to compensate for that; when the climate is fair I am hyper alert. Some recent sounds that have been identified revealed my heightened state of awareness.
Before France I noted a squeaking on steady climbs. It seemed to come from my front wheel. To make an embarrassing story shorter, it was my gloves squealing on my new bar tape.
Last week I noted a quiet click with each pedal revolution. I suspected my left pedal which I had recently torn down, lubed the internals, and put all back together. I unclipped and pedaled with just my right foot. The clicking persisted. I checked the chainring bolts when I got to work. All good there. On the way home on a quiet stretch I noted it sounded more like a soft scraping sound. The chain cleared everything, so I wasn't sure what was going on. When I got home I put it up on the stand and slowly turned the cranks. The crankarm brushed the cable cap that came out of the front derailleur. I bent the wire back and the sound was gone. I slapped the side of my head with the appropriate gesture.
On a quick ride the weekend I heard what seemed like my rim was rubbing against the brake pad. I stopped and spun my wheels one at a time. Nothing. I clipped in and rolled on. Voom......voom.......voom. I stopped. I had picked up some sticky stuff and that had picked up a patch of dirt. When the dirt made contact with the pavement there was a hint of a sound. I shook my head and rode on.
Sometimes you can listen too much. In a month I'll be riding with my headlight on and a beanie on my noggin in the morning. Although I am sad to see summer end, I won't be haunted by tiny sounds.
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