Ups and Downs: From A Broken Spoke to the Air conditioned Senior Center

Leaving town I snapped the boot up screen for Windows.

We leave the small motel in Wilton (which David calls the “Wilton Hilton”) early, right around 6 AM and are about fifteen miles out of town, when I hear “broing!”  I think, oh shit, David has broken a spoke.  David asks if his wheel is out (of true), and at first I can’t tell.  Then I see the broken spoke rattling around. It had snapped in half right in the middle as if cut by a tool.  We stop and he wraps the broken spoke around another good one.  It is already hot and there is no shade to be found.  We both know that the repair will take some time and since the wheel is not too wobbling too much we press on in order to find a suitable repair spot.

"Excuse me, you are standing in a no distraction zone."

Down for repairs in the shaded pavilion,

The wheelsmith at work.

We make it into a town park about five miles past where the spoke broke.  I know the fix is really up to me.  Although I did build a set of wheels, and have trued a number of other ones, I have never fixed a spoke on the road.  It was time to take things step by step and figure it out. 

DW: Fortunately I do carry spare spokes on the bike; there are three of them that lay on top of the non-drive side chain stay in holders built onto the frame. Pata has the new spoke threaded into the wheel in no time. The real challenge lies in tightening the new spoke so it is compatible with its neighboring spokes and thus the wheel will spin true again.  The truing process takes time and patience and Pata is good at this! Her previous wheel building experience, as well as her jewelry creating, serve us well for this particular repair. With artistic concentration she works the spoke nipples with the wrench. First this spoke then that one, slowly dialing in the wheel so that no wobble can be detected between the brake pads she is using as guides (normally a truing stand would be used for this purpose but since we don’t have one my upside down bike becomes the stand and the brake pads the indicators for lateral play).

Within an hour we are back on the road moving west. Considering the circumstances we were in Pata did a fantastic job with my wheel! It’s not perfect but I believe it will hold until we reach the next bike shop.

OJ - population less than 500.

Our stop for the night is Oxford Junction Iowa. We find the city park listed on our map. In the park is a Legionnaire Hall with a car parked outside. We enter the hall and find an elderly gentleman inside. After a bit of conversation he tells us we can camp in the park. Later as we are scouting the park for a tent spot the man drives up to us and shows us where the water spigots are. I ask him if it’s possible to sleep in the hall but he says no.

Pata makes a call to city hall to get official permission to sleep in the park which is approved over the phone by Steve the vice-president park affairs.  After our tent is up the Steve drives up to greet us. He tells us about a good restaurant just a half mile up the road. Pata goes off to get dinner while he discusses with me the park in great detail.

The next thing I know the owner of the restaurant comes driving in the park and right up to Steve and me. He says, “You must be David?” I answer yes and he says “Pack up all your stuff. You and Pata will be staying in the town’s Senior Center. It has air conditioning and it’s much too hot to be outside.”

Pata pulls up to the Senior Center at almost 7PM

It's big in here and all ours for the night. Did I mention the A/C?

The understated entrance

Hand crafted clock on the wall in the center.

Pata working the soda machine in the front.

Cold orange soda and A/C - perfect together.

Which one of these things doesn't belong?

The bicycles continue to unlock doors and hearts.

The next morning Pata steps out ready for more mileage.

Wow, what a development! I start packing as Pata comes back. She met the Senior Center manager who gave her the key to the center and we went from primitive camping (read: water, porta potty and tent) to air conditioned comfort in the blink of an eye.

What David didn’t know is that as I went up to the restaurant, a man came out.  He had one eye that was injured, a bushy white beard and overalls.  He kind of reminded me of Professor Moody from Harry Potter.  Anyway, he commented that I was a week late for RAGBRI and I said that we were going across.  He asked did I know they let people stay at the Senior Center? I said that I didn’t and he told me to ask inside.  So when I got inside I asked the proprietor about the Senior Center.  She called a fellow named Dick who came over, and showed me around and gave me the key. 

It was quite a score.  AC and a soda machine – who could ask for more?  And it was not nearly as sketchy as the park.  (Where David had talked to a woman who told him there had been trouble there the night before at 1AM.  What she was doing there at 1 AM is another question, but we won’t go there.)  In any event, we slept safe and sound and cool.