Nothing Lasts Forever, Take 297
I needed to boost morale so I rose early, saddled up the sweet Trek 5200, threw a backpack on my back, and started pedaling to work. Felt good, felt smooth, felt like a house of power. Then I leaned hard into a corner and heard the all-too-familiar PING come out of the back wheel.
When you ride a lot you learn to stop when your machine makes a funny noise. The sooner, the better.
Pulled up, pulled over, and discovered I had wasted yet another spoke on the Rolf Vector Pro back wheel. It was so shot that even with the brake calipers wide open, the rim was still rubbing the chainstay. Sheote.
Options: stick out the thumb, or hike a bike to the commuter boat. I chose the latter. Threw the bike up on the shoulder, through the grass, over the boatyard wall, through the parking lot, and sat down with the NY Times and a cup of tea.
And now for the emotional part. Get out your box of Kleenex. After 25,000 miles and seven years of good service, I have to kiss the wheel up to the Gods above. Wheelworks, where my bike was born, said it's not worth rebuilding.
When you ride a lot you learn to stop when your machine makes a funny noise. The sooner, the better.
Pulled up, pulled over, and discovered I had wasted yet another spoke on the Rolf Vector Pro back wheel. It was so shot that even with the brake calipers wide open, the rim was still rubbing the chainstay. Sheote.
Options: stick out the thumb, or hike a bike to the commuter boat. I chose the latter. Threw the bike up on the shoulder, through the grass, over the boatyard wall, through the parking lot, and sat down with the NY Times and a cup of tea.
And now for the emotional part. Get out your box of Kleenex. After 25,000 miles and seven years of good service, I have to kiss the wheel up to the Gods above. Wheelworks, where my bike was born, said it's not worth rebuilding.
posted by joe berkeley at 1:03 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home