Sunday, April 30, 2017

Trailer reversing

I submit a list of all the people in my family who can reverse a car with a trailer behind it:

It is not, as perhaps you can see, a very long list. It occurs to me, as a result of an experience I just had which I shall not now discuss, that a particularly interesting motor sport would be this: to set up a row of cars each with a trailer attached, and have them race, in reverse gear, around a track. Curborough might be suitable. I would even come to watch.

In other and wholly unrelated matters, I have finally added a seat to the penny trike. Equipped with bits of wood to sit on, it proved popular among teenage visitors, but only one could ride it.

 Bits of wood as seat

 More bits of wood as seat

Sort of mobile park bench

It can now be ridden by one person, or by two side-by-side provided each co-operates using one pedal and one side of the handlebar, and it can accommodate two further passengers facing backwards provided they don't all mind their bums touching. It is not the fastest vehicle I have ever built, but it has occasioned some merriment from those using it.

Labels: ,

Monday, April 3, 2017

One year on

It is now zackly a year since I was cut for the stone, and since nobody who ever reads this blog registers the wit and vivacity of my literary references (see, there goes another one) I shall mention that the quote comes from Mr. Pepys and if you don't know what being cut for the stone means, here's (warning: pdf) a particularly graphic and horrifying account of it. Everyone thinks that Mr. Pepys was just the chap who wrote the Diary, but actually he was slightly importanter in the history of England than that - he was the chap who really founded the Civil Service. Which statement can rest unreferenced because either no-one cares or if they do care they're better informed than I am and likely to be disputatious.

I wasn't cut for the stone actually. I was cut for the nailing together of some of my trochanters. And the current posish is that apart from minor nagging aches, and the fact that I'm five minutes slower in the hour on a bicycle and not nearly as fast walking, I'm pretty well recovered, ta v.m. for asking.

However since we are not interested in my state of health, I shall now display a photograph of the foam chaincase which allows me to ride my delightfully slow two-speed bike through the rain without having to trouble myself about the chain going rusty.

And here is how I glued it together:

It just sits there, vaguely attached by the flimsy hole round the bike's frame, and being of light-weight, soft material, it makes no noise even if the chain or crank rubs on it.

One day I shall have to think about how to remove parts for maintenance, but I expect a sharp knife, followed by contact adhesive, will have to do the trick. For the moment, lubrication, if I can be bothered, can be by squidging the oilcan in somewhere. Being protected from road dust the chain can manage by being oiled though this I normally eschew, it being a very inferior form of lubrication compared to chain waxing. Which topick we need not go into since the unconverted will never believe it and the converted need no encouragement.

The highly observant, by which I mean Mr. Knight, will note that the rear wheel, formerly a four-cross, has been rebuilt as a three-cross owing to frequent pringling. The or'nery observant will note the common-or-garden pedals, and that's because I wear knackered old trainers when riding this bike cos it only ever gets used when it's raining. Which it happens to be today. Which is why this topick cross'd my mind.

Labels: , , , ,