Purchasing Mistakes
My bike is in the hands of the professionals now. I dropped it off at the shop yesterday after receiving advice that I shouldn’t try messing with the drive components on my own to solve the annoying click when pedaling.
Since this will now be the third time I have brought this bike in with the same complaint, I am going to pressure the mechanic for as much detail as I can extract from whatever diagnosis he provides. I asked the person who wrote up my service ticket whether there is a known issue with this 2021 Trek bike model. He didn’t know, but said the head mechanic would review all related service bulletins to check.
When I picked this model of bike, I hoped it would be the last bike I would ever buy. I will be very sad if it turns out to have an unsolvable flaw.
It wouldn’t be the first purchasing mistake I’ve made. I’ve been wearing bike shoes that I bought a couple of years ago that have been too narrow for my feet, hoping that they would stretch out over time.
After trying a variety of seamless socks in the hope of eliminating painful pressure points, I finally decided to shop for a better-fitting (wider) shoe. Doubting the local stores would carry much selection, I tried shopping online. I ran into a surprising number of shoes that were either sold out or had limited sizes available.
While I was in the shop yesterday, I thought to ask about shoes. They had the half-size I was after in a model that suited me just fine. It was doubly rewarding to give my business to the local shop, and I was able to take advantage of discount points I had accrued as a member of their “fanatics” program. Plus, they have a 60-day comfort guarantee.
I’ve got two months to decide if this pair hurts my feet.
One other purchasing mistake I frequently regret was choosing the two-lever steering on the zero-turn mower instead of a steering wheel. I discovered right away that the many slopes I mow are a struggle with free-spinning front wheels. They offer a similar model to mine, but with a steering wheel that would have been the better choice.
Multiple thousand-dollar purchases are difficult to undo if you’ve waited too long to switch. One of these days, if I get as fed up with the mower rolling downhill when I don’t want it to as I did with my feet hurting in those narrow shoes, maybe I’ll just buy the version with a steering wheel and see if I can sell the old one to someone with flatter land.
Cyndie took a picture of storm clouds headed our way as she was driving home last evening. It got really blustery just as she arrived, but calmed considerably a short time later. I would describe it as more of a rain shower than a storm.
I’m sure glad I don’t have to purchase weather.
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Split Attention
So much sports to watch now that the 2026 FIFA World Cup tournament is underway. Last night, it was complicated by the concurrent broadcast of the 6th game of the NHL Stanley Cup final series. It is not an easy feat to pay close attention to both at once. At least the Carolina Hurricanes solved that issue in the future with their Cup-winning victory over Vegas.
Of course, the Tour de France bike race will start in July, so my attention will be split again, soon.
I spent the early part of the day using our battery-powered string trimmer to cut the growth beneath the fence line around the back pasture. Precision timing (or mere chance, if I were to be honest) had the trimmer battery drained just in time for me to catch the start of the first World Cup game of the day.
As long as I’ve accomplished something along the lines of property maintenance, I feel justified in lounging around watching athletes entertain me with their team skills for the rest of the day.
It helps that the horses and Asher have been taking care of themselves for the most part, lately. When we came in for lunch, Asher decided he wanted to stay sprawled out in the front yard, enjoying the breeze and keeping watch over his domain.
Mia was showing us that she understands what the shade sail is for. The other three horses demonstrate much less interest, preferring to remain under the overhang. Their loss, I say.
While I was watching sports deep into the evening, Cyndie occupied herself with packing preparations for traveling to Norway with Elysa. They will be celebrating a milestone birthday for E, experiencing the light of the midnight sun, and visiting with Friswold relatives while they are there.
I have warned them that Norway will be playing two matches during their visit, so the people may be a little preoccupied on those days –or I should say nights, given the time difference.
There will be no shortage of things commanding my attention while Cyndie is away. Here’s hoping Asher will remain content to stay within our property boundaries for all the days I am the sole person in charge.
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Message Received
Asher was scratching to get at something underneath one of the dressers in our bedroom. I quickly told him I would help, hoping it would get him to immediately stop scratching. Unsure about what he was after under there, I got down on my knees and pressed my face to the floor.
I didn’t see anything and told him so, as if he would understand my words more than just hearing, “blah blah blah blabbering blah.”
Suddenly, his favorite bright orange “Tricky Treat” ball smacked down beside my head. Asher had picked it up and tossed it at me.
“Aha!” Message received.
I looked under the dresser again. Now that I knew what I was looking for, it was obvious. One of his morsels of the dry food we put inside the ball was lying just out of his reach under there.
While I was writing this out just now, Asher showed up and dropped his Tricky Treat ball on my arm. It’s not clear whether that was a way to let me know he knew what I was writing about, or that he just wanted more treats.
Either way, he is making it very clear that he has not given up on training us to recognize what he wants to communicate.
He is trying to disprove the canine adage that you can’t teach old owners new tricks.
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Asher’s Activity
While Cyndie was away yesterday, I was in charge of Asher and hoped he would linger nearby while I was puttering about with whatever activity grabbed my attention. I thought he was with me when I headed down to the barn to retrieve the feed buckets after the morning feeding. He often lies down just beyond the front of the barn when we are working inside.
I ended up back in the compost area and decided to dig into the currently active block to turn it over and break it apart to aerate and reshape it back inside the pallets again. That ended up taking enough time that I felt a need to check on Asher, since he never showed up where I was working.
Well, he was nowhere in sight. I walked toward the house and down the driveway again to the road, but he was nowhere to be found. Fearing he may have taken off down the road, I got in my car and cruised up and down to the neighboring properties. Still nothing.
However, as I drove back toward the garage, I found Asher trotting toward me from the direction of our woods, looking happy as could be and a little tired. I parked the car and convinced him to join me in the compost area, where he settled down to nap in the shade as I worked.
He surprised me after a while by moving out into the sun.
With his black coat, it looked pretty hot to me, but who am I to question his choices?
My impression was proven accurate just a few minutes later when he got up and walked into the weeds to lie down in the shade.
When I had finished moving the compost pile, Asher followed me up to the house, where he found another shady spot to lie and keep an eye on me while I mowed the front yard.
He must have gotten all that disappearing out of his system in the morning because he ended up staying close to where I was working for the rest of the day.
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No Connection
Our internet is not working, so I’m back on my phone to connect.
At least I was still able to watch hockey last night.
Extra Excitement
We stepped out of our geothermally air-conditioned home yesterday morning into an almost tropical humidity that had me sweating after just a few strides. There had been a rambunctious thunderstorm in the wee hours before dawn, and the weather service was warning that the day could bring even more severe storms in the afternoon.
It was not going to be a day for mowing. After breakfast, I decided to do some rearranging in the compost area.
I removed the pallets from around the most active pile and positioned them beside it. Since the pile was still cooking pretty well, I’m going to leave it standing for another day or two before stirring it up and tossing it back inside the pallets for a second round of composting.
While I was working on that, I suddenly heard the sound of splashing down at Paddock Lake.
Three of the horses were really getting into it as I approached with my phone to record the action. Mix walked away just enough to stay out of the frame. They kicked so much that it looked like they were trying to empty the puddle by working together at the same time.
After I was back in the compost area behind the trees, I suddenly heard the pounding hooves of running horses. They had sprinted out into the hay field, where they stood atop the high spot to survey their surroundings, looking like lords over their domain.
They weren’t out there for very long when the pounding hooves started up again, and I could hear them racing back to the barn overhang. I always wonder if their sprinting triggers memories of their days racing against other horses on the track.
All this activity happened in such a short span of time that I wouldn’t have had a clue if I wasn’t working near them in that moment. The horses spend the majority of their time standing under and around the overhang, so it can seem like they are practically sedentary.
It’s nice to have witnessed proof that this is not necessarily true. Just because I wasn’t around to notice doesn’t mean they haven’t been sneaking in a little extra excitement every once in a while.
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Color Brilliance
When I got home after the weekend, it was really dry around here. That made mowing a much less urgent line item on the to-do list. Then it rained on Monday, and suddenly everything got dramatically taller. Cyndie’s garden of perennials has become rather crowded.
The dianthus looks almost electric with its intensity of color in the sunlight.
The jewelweed has filled out to a point that it almost swallows the entrance to some of our pathways.
It has reached the point where I need to be trimming the branches encroaching on our trails as much as I need to be mowing grass, and I have yet to catch up with knocking down the growth under all of our fence lines.
Yesterday, I squeezed in a test ride on my bike to see if I’ve made any progress tightening fasteners to eliminate the bothersome clicking. The ride didn’t take long because the click is still there. Further troubleshooting will commence during the next period of daytime rain that occurs, which may be today, if the forecasts prove correct.
We have been informed by the weather service that there are elevated possibilities for severe storms in our area today. I’ll be watching the sky and compulsively checking the pretty colors on the radar to keep tabs on what’s coming our way… between periods of mowing and trail trimming, that is.
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Eating Well
Our last day of riding on Sunday involved one primary goal beyond the joy of riding: breakfast at Greenwood’s Cafe in Reedsburg. It’s not very difficult to imagine you’ve stepped into the world of The Andy Griffith Show when greeted by the small town diner atmosphere, friendly service, and delicious food.
We jumped on the 400 State Trail near the north end of Wonewoc and rode about 15 miles to where the trail ends in Reedsburg. That stretch of trail is pretty flat. All of the trail riding we did over the last four days was railroad grade, so I didn’t even bother adding the weight of the motor and battery pack on my bike. I have a cover that fits over that space on the downtube.
It would have been blissful except for the click that developed somewhere in the vicinity of the bottom bracket as I pedaled, similar to the problem I encountered last year while riding in the Tour of Minnesota. I ended up having the bike shop deal with the situation last year. This time, I’m hoping to see if I can figure out the source myself and solve it by tightening any screws that may be vibrating loose.
At least we didn’t need to stop and remove downed trees from the trail on the last day of our adventure. However, the easy riding we did –the wind was at our back on the return leg to our cars– failed to balance the breakfast calories consumed. Well, and all of the other excellent restaurant meals we enjoyed and augmented with a bounty of snacks and treats we munched on back at our campsite each day. (Cyndie sent along some of her caramel rolls and walnut chocolate chunk cookies with me.)
It was an absolute joy to share the adventure with some of my favorite people, but returning to a full night’s sleep in my own freshly made bed just might be an equal experience on the scale of joys.
Home, sweet home.
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Storm Debris
We made it into our tents just as the storm front arrived Friday night. It was noteworthy, but we’ve slept through worse. However, the area the trail crossed just to our southeast must have experienced much stronger winds.
We risked our wellbeing to move what we could, and crawled over and under anything too big to lift.
The thick fog from morning dissipated as soon as the sun appeared, but lingered near the cool openings of the tunnels.
A good time is being had by all.
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Relative Something 