The First Ride

After I was reasonably unpacked and the cart with the broken and flat wheels returned to its den in the parking garage, I dressed for a bike ride. #235 is in a complex called Riverstone and is conveniently close to a bike path that, conveniently, goes straight downtown. I followed the path downtown and wound up, quite by accident, following the small loop of the bike course. It essentially heads straight East through town and turns South/Southeast on to some road that essentially follows the river shoreline. 6 miles down, I run into the hill that is the run turnaround (but since the run loop is run twice, I get to run this hill twice). Unfortunately, for the bike, we continue down the other side of the hill for another 1.5 miles or so and turn around in a parking lot where the road dead ends. The journey back involves the same hill in the opposite direction and I realize that since the bike loop is done twice, I get to do this hill, in all its glory, twice. Fine, I can live with that. I ride back through downtown getting lost several times before heading home to deal with this magical squeaking sound that's been happening since I left #235.

Lucky for me there's a new bike shop downstairs from #235 and I explained my problem to one staff member. He came outside with me and had me ride by him. He heard it, although it was faint. Hopping off the bike, in about 30 seconds, he figured out it was the cap from the pump rubbing against my crank arm. A quick twist and voila, it was fixed.