An Affair to Remember

Do you remember when you were a kid on the beach building sand castles? I would always get lost in what I was doing and wind up with a bathing suit packed with sand. This same phenomenon happens when I am on my bike only it's not the bathing suit that gets packed. It's the chain. So I spent the evening down at TMI relieving Jack of the grit in his suit and shining up the hub.

It should be noted that I know nothing about working on bikes. I can fix and change a flat. Wow. It should also be noted that I get a bit tense when others are working on my bike. I may have mentioned before it's comparable to getting a pelvic exam. Far to much intimacy with a stranger. So the guys down at the shop know I get cranked when something is wrong with my bike. They also know I don't trust them when they are trying to help me. I don't even try to hide this fact. They head for the bomb shelter when I show up with my lover in tow. I can be a bit emasculating, I guess. I don't mean to be. I'm just neurotic about my bike. So, if you are reading this and you have ever in the past, or in the future, tried to help me with my bike, I am asking you to forgive me across the board on this issue right now.

It could get ugly.

More than one individual has said to me while I am in a state of perceived "Bike Crisis" that it's not that big of a deal, and it is only a bike in the grand scheme of things. If you should ever say this to me, I will mostly likely nod in agreement and try to muster up a smile, all while visualizing removing everyone one of your toe nails with rusty needle nose pliers, and forcing you to soak your feet in lemon juice. Sounds like torture doesn't it? Well, the threat of not being able to ride my bike is absolutely torture for me too, unless of course it is raining. In fact, it was raining this morning when I got up. That got me thinking of long weekends snuggled up with many books in a cabin in some remote location. I can always find something else to do if it rains. But if it's a physical issue with me, or a mechanical issue with the bike, my panties are going to be in a bunch. You'll just have to be the bigger person.

I knew the chain was gritty, but I was primarily concerned that there may be sand in my "not really a bracket" bottom bracket. I really didn't want to take everything apart, so Eric convinced me to just slip the chain off and spin the crank arms. Everything sounded okay so after getting the chain and hub as clean as I could, I put the wheel back on. I have an Eccentric Hub. It is named this for a reason. It takes finesse that my inexperienced hands lack.


When I first put the wheel back on, the brake pads were so far off, it looked like I put the wrong wheel on the bike. Steve came over to see what I was doing. He said all we needed to do was adjust the brakes. Normally I would have agreed, but the adjustment was far to significant and my mind was obsessing on why there was such a dramatic change. He went to grab some tools to start in on the brakes, but I stopped him. Sometimes my mind can't let go of what it can't explain. This isn't always a good thing for the people in my life. I took the bike off the stand and flipped it over. I was able to get it so nestled in the drops, and the pads so lined up that the wheel wouldn't spin. I was baffled again but more willing to accept this minor adjustment over the previous gross difference. I paid careful attention while he adjusted the brakes this time. Not that I haven't paid close attention the 5,000 other times I was shown on my geared bike, but it's different with Jack. This is a bike that I want to know.

When I got him home last night I brought him inside. The thought crossed my mind that this is probably something that another individual would find unacceptable. I have not one, but two bikes in my living room. My living room is small. I let out a sigh of relief that I am single. I oiled the chain and spun the crank arms. Smooth as silk.
In spin class this morning I was acutely aware of the mortician makeup and breast implants as compared to my lack of femininity, evidenced by the bruises and chain grease ground into my nails and skin.
As I shined the hub I felt good about the decision I made earlier in the day to just get to know myself and the bike this summer. Single but unavailable. What a concept. Jack was happy to have the sand removed from his suit; I'll do whatever it takes to make him happy.

It's going to be an awesome summer!