Winter riding in Portland means you have to have mudguards. More like rainguards. And they are for you as much as for the cyclist behind you. On the Zurich, I like the Portland Design Works, Full Metal Fenders. They are sleek, strong, and good looking, and they come with clever hangers which reach up and over center-mount rim brakes. Your bike does not need to have braze-on eyelets. Full Metal Fenders can be mounted using what your bike has already: the bolts that hold your brakes to the frame and the axles for your wheels. The fender stays have a telescoping adjustment that allows you to set them at just the right clearance. I like mine tight.
Setting the mudguards tight on the tires violates the principle of silence (and possibly Rule #65), because the tires kick up debris, which then rattles around inside the fender before finding its way out. The bike’s frame stays clean, my shoes stay dry, but the tight clearance unexpectedly, musically scores the season. Debris sweeps through the 30mm wide fender channel, slung from the 28mm wide tire coursing through. And each sort of debris makes a unique sound. After a few rides, I’ve learned the “read” the pavé* based on the report.
When the wheel sounds like a squirrel scratching a DJ turntable, that means I’m rolling over Douglas fir needles, which means it is a warm February.
If it sounds like rice dropping from a New Seasons bulk bin into a coffee canister, then I’m rolling over sand.
When it sounds like a cross between marbles dropping in a glass jug and fingernails on a chalkboard, then PBOT still has not swept up the jagged pea gravel they threw down before it snowed that one time in December.
The more subtle whoosh of a wool blanket dragged across cement means that I am rolling over the ash of a campfire that spread from the trailside tent encampments into the bike path.
The sound of ice pellets tapping the window means that I have run over glass, and let me tell you, its always raining ice pellets on the Springwater Corridor and the I-205 multi-use path.
A garage band mashup of these sounds means it’s currently raining. Travis Bickle thought the rain would wash all the scum off the streets, but all it really does it move it into the bike lane.
The sound of silence means it is election season.
Strava segment – Springwater TT
* pavé, the cobbles and uneven surfaces that make cycling races such as Paris-Roubaix so difficult. See more.