Big Bikes

Fiasco Day

Q: "Do you ever get a good night's sleep before you leave to go somewhere?"

A: "No, no I guess I don't. I think I like it this way."

As you can see above (above right, not above left...we'll get to that thing on the left in a minute) I have very important things to do the night before I go on a trip — things like loading 80 Guided By Voices songs onto my ipod.

Oh what a grand adventure I did have today. As I mentioned, my bike is in pieces. The frame, front wheel and other bits are in Carrboro at Cycle 9. The fork and rear wheel are still with me. Today I had to go into the shop to throw my fork back together and re-build my rear wheel. Can I just say that I hate, I say HATE those three little bastard ball bearings that reside inside a Fox lock out lever. Their mission in life is to get lost and make a mechanic's life hell. If ball bearings could die, I would kill them. If they could feel pain I would torture them first.

The plan was to either ride over to Newton and get my shit directly or wait for the van to shuttle it over to Boston, if the time-frame worked out.
I spoke to the van driver at our Newton shop before he left, "you got the Fox seals, the spokes and that rim?"
"Ya dude!"

But when I got to the Boston shop the seals and spokes were there...but no bumba-clot rim. I threw a little bit of a hissy fit. I had obligations in the early evening, my window to get the wheel and fork done was small. Not quite knowing what to do, I went about dealing with the fork and trying to calm myself and devise a plan of action, "do I ride my bike to Newton, get the rim, bring it back to Boston (that's a 40+ minute roundtrip), there's no way I'll have time to build it, so I'll have to throw the rim, the fork, and truing stand in the B.O.B trailer, and cart it all home, so I can build the wheel until midnight...oh that's just fucking great! I am PSYCHED!"

While I was finishing up the fork I got a call from the van driver, he was on his way back with my rim. There is a god...and his name is Chris Agee. He's a pagan god who listens to lots of Bahaus and owns a Pegoretti covered in skeletons, but I'll take him. Actually I'll take him because of that.

And...go! Um, no, not so fast. Someone had, perhaps, quickly measured the spokes on their existing wheel, and this someone had, perhaps, not taken the time to note that the Bontrager 240 based hub employs two disparate flange sizes, so this someone had to make do with spokes which were about 5mm too short, and this someone now has the unenviable task of re-re-building their rear wheel when they get back from North Carolina. Oh fun.

The wheel and the fork got done in time for me to make it to my early evening obligation. The stock cotter pins on my B.O.B. trailer did attempt to thwart my progress, opting to eject somewhere after the footbridge leading down to Lower Allston. I don't use the trailer all that much, I like riding as unencumbered as possible, but I knew there was a reason for the two little hose clamps on the stays of the B.O.B.. They were there because, years ago, while riding from San Francisco to Cincinnati (That was my intent too. The hell with riding coast to coast, I just wanna ride from S.F. to Cinci-fuckin-nnati!) my tour-mates and I developed a better systtem than the crappy-stock-fall-out-and-kill-you cotter pins provided. We used spokes bent over and secured with mini hose clamps. I think B.O.B. has improved upon this design since then. I hope so.

OK, off to bed and then off to North Carolina in the AM.

Time to make the stories.



Above, top to bottom left to right: 1.) Encumbered 2.) Welcome back Cotter 3.) The rest of my bike in a wheel box...and my fat, hairy belly 4.) Too hot to handle too cold to hold