I've read a few past threads on bike hunting and have done so a little in the past. This year I decided to save my feet some and get more serious about it. The opening morning of the deer rifle hunt seemed a likely time.
This year, I had great ideas of including a rack to carry the pack on. A rack that mounts on the seat post and sticks out over the rear wheel. I then clamped a big enough piece of hog panel on to allow me to strap my hunting pack and rifle to it. That way I’d be able to pedal, unencumbered by a pack on my back. Ah, the best laid schemes of mice and men...
I found out right away that my front shifter was only engaging two sprockets. I also found out that my rear derailer wouldn’t shift at all. It had been fine in the yard 30 minutes earlier of course.
In any case, I was committed to the endeavor, so I headed up the old logging road (closed to motorized traffic, though it hardly slowed them down) with two speeds. Fortunately, they were low speeds. The pedaling itself wasn’t too bad. A couple of hills winded me pretty good and I just walked the bike in some severely rocky areas. There were some other unexpected happenings though.
I hadn’t expected throwing my pack on the back to affect the handling of the bike much. It had a severe effect. The added weight in the back lightened the front and the steering was a bit squirrely, the bike tending to take off to the left or right with the slightest provocation by terrain. Imagine a two wheeled snake slithering down the road if you will. Except snakes tend to not run into bushes, large rocks, or off steep embankments.
Now it may be that I slightly overloaded the rack. By slightly overloaded, I of course mean about three-quarters more weight than the rack is rated for. I also found that while I thought the rack was securely clamped to the seat post, 35 pounds of pack and firearm hanging a foot and a half behind the seat had a leveraging effect. If the bike leaned much to a side, the whole rack/pack thing tended to swing over in that direction. I found that 35 pounds abruptly swinging off to one side or the other had a detrimental effect on handling.
This was compounded by the next discovery. When going up a steep hill (when 56, steep is anything not flat), you sometimes have to apply a little more pressure to the pedals. By a little more pressure, I of course mean, bear down with all your weight because we need to keep momentum. If the beast of a bike stops on the hill, not only are you going to have to walk it to the top (there is no starting from a stop once on the hill), there are the dubious odds as to whether one will be able to keep the beasty from trying to escape backwards down the hill once you stop.
Applying a light pressure to the pedals on the steeper inclines lent to the phenomena of the front wheel separating from the ground—the front wheel evidently seeking to elevate its station in life. Of course, once the front wheel becomes airborne, all control of the nasty vehicle is lost and it tends to want to head off in directions unknown. As soon as the now unicycle starts in one direction, the luggage resists the course change by swinging around in the other direction, lending to the bike turning sideways whilst the front wheel is still in the air. The combination of the decreased stability associated with one-wheeled vehicles and the luggage weight swinging about results in a rather abrupt meeting of the vehicle and ground. I managed to mostly gently set the beast down (in an attempt to save damage to firearm and luggage). However, lacking a desire to end up lying down on, under, or near it, I generally released the bike as it settled on the ground with a one-legged hop off to the side. One hop invariably become more as I sideways danced my momentum away, seeking to find the sweet spot somewhere between ending up flat on the ground and wrapped around a tree at the side of the road.
Many expressive words were shared about and directed toward the bike, the road, the luggage, the laws of physics…
It may be there is a reason why touring and cargo bikes have racks in the front and back to evenly distribute weight. Racks securely mounted and denied the exhilaration of pivoting. There may also be a reason the luggage is hung lower to the ground. These are things one thinks of while unicycling and sideways hopping away down logging roads.
In the end, I made it back to my spot, enjoyed the hunt, and rode out a day and a half later. Going out was much better. The pack was on my back (biking is much more enjoyable when you can steer) and a bundle of clothing and light stuff were bungeed to the rack. A little two point by the road was sure he had no idea what I was, but after I stopped and we observed each other for awhile, he did appear to conclude that whatever I was, he was sure I was up to no good and he bound off.
As with all things, a little preseason practice of new things can save some grief at moments of truth. I present that wisdom as theory, as I have no personal experience with advanced prep and practice; rather favoring going into battle solely with a plan and no testing of the equipment.
At last, camp!
From about nine years ago. The pack out.
This year, I had great ideas of including a rack to carry the pack on. A rack that mounts on the seat post and sticks out over the rear wheel. I then clamped a big enough piece of hog panel on to allow me to strap my hunting pack and rifle to it. That way I’d be able to pedal, unencumbered by a pack on my back. Ah, the best laid schemes of mice and men...
I found out right away that my front shifter was only engaging two sprockets. I also found out that my rear derailer wouldn’t shift at all. It had been fine in the yard 30 minutes earlier of course.
In any case, I was committed to the endeavor, so I headed up the old logging road (closed to motorized traffic, though it hardly slowed them down) with two speeds. Fortunately, they were low speeds. The pedaling itself wasn’t too bad. A couple of hills winded me pretty good and I just walked the bike in some severely rocky areas. There were some other unexpected happenings though.
I hadn’t expected throwing my pack on the back to affect the handling of the bike much. It had a severe effect. The added weight in the back lightened the front and the steering was a bit squirrely, the bike tending to take off to the left or right with the slightest provocation by terrain. Imagine a two wheeled snake slithering down the road if you will. Except snakes tend to not run into bushes, large rocks, or off steep embankments.
Now it may be that I slightly overloaded the rack. By slightly overloaded, I of course mean about three-quarters more weight than the rack is rated for. I also found that while I thought the rack was securely clamped to the seat post, 35 pounds of pack and firearm hanging a foot and a half behind the seat had a leveraging effect. If the bike leaned much to a side, the whole rack/pack thing tended to swing over in that direction. I found that 35 pounds abruptly swinging off to one side or the other had a detrimental effect on handling.
This was compounded by the next discovery. When going up a steep hill (when 56, steep is anything not flat), you sometimes have to apply a little more pressure to the pedals. By a little more pressure, I of course mean, bear down with all your weight because we need to keep momentum. If the beast of a bike stops on the hill, not only are you going to have to walk it to the top (there is no starting from a stop once on the hill), there are the dubious odds as to whether one will be able to keep the beasty from trying to escape backwards down the hill once you stop.
Applying a light pressure to the pedals on the steeper inclines lent to the phenomena of the front wheel separating from the ground—the front wheel evidently seeking to elevate its station in life. Of course, once the front wheel becomes airborne, all control of the nasty vehicle is lost and it tends to want to head off in directions unknown. As soon as the now unicycle starts in one direction, the luggage resists the course change by swinging around in the other direction, lending to the bike turning sideways whilst the front wheel is still in the air. The combination of the decreased stability associated with one-wheeled vehicles and the luggage weight swinging about results in a rather abrupt meeting of the vehicle and ground. I managed to mostly gently set the beast down (in an attempt to save damage to firearm and luggage). However, lacking a desire to end up lying down on, under, or near it, I generally released the bike as it settled on the ground with a one-legged hop off to the side. One hop invariably become more as I sideways danced my momentum away, seeking to find the sweet spot somewhere between ending up flat on the ground and wrapped around a tree at the side of the road.
Many expressive words were shared about and directed toward the bike, the road, the luggage, the laws of physics…
It may be there is a reason why touring and cargo bikes have racks in the front and back to evenly distribute weight. Racks securely mounted and denied the exhilaration of pivoting. There may also be a reason the luggage is hung lower to the ground. These are things one thinks of while unicycling and sideways hopping away down logging roads.
In the end, I made it back to my spot, enjoyed the hunt, and rode out a day and a half later. Going out was much better. The pack was on my back (biking is much more enjoyable when you can steer) and a bundle of clothing and light stuff were bungeed to the rack. A little two point by the road was sure he had no idea what I was, but after I stopped and we observed each other for awhile, he did appear to conclude that whatever I was, he was sure I was up to no good and he bound off.
As with all things, a little preseason practice of new things can save some grief at moments of truth. I present that wisdom as theory, as I have no personal experience with advanced prep and practice; rather favoring going into battle solely with a plan and no testing of the equipment.
At last, camp!
From about nine years ago. The pack out.
