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Monday, January 9

It had been much too long...

I rode Saturday (more on that later... tomorrow?).

I worked on some things on Sunday.

Given the opportunity and the noisy reminder that I needed to work on my bike, I got down to business on Sunday. I mighta (closely) watched the Women's National CX race first, but after that, I ran to the store and prepared for the task at hand before the men's race started.

Saturday's ride reminded me in an auditory manner that I had been ignoring my bike for quite awhile. I thought I'd be able continue to ignore it until the Meat Stickel arrived, but the cacophonic clamor was too much to bear. It's been resoundingly pinging, panging, clacking, ticking, and creaking all too long. I couldn't take it any longer.

I removed the MOOTSpost. All the little MOOTSbits were wiped down with a ProTowel, lubed, and reinserted properly. Seated climbing will no longer be ignored in favor of more peaceful standing. I can sit and be lazy once more.

The amount of black gobbled D gook in all the little tight places was bewildering. No more.

Fresh meat mounted up front. Old front meat now new back meat. Traction to improve ten-fold. Noise reduced? Naught.

XTR pedals were removed, disassembled and properly lubed/adjusted...

all while trying to keep a keen eye on Ryan Trebon's failed efforts to be totally awesome.

There was an annoying creaking coming from my brake levers. For the first time (honestly) I broke out the Luber Pen.

This device makes sense to me now. Lube in tiny places and not all over the place. Dick Bruceman wins. Pull back on the lever, and peaceful braking is within reach.

I had to swap a terribly worn-out ring with a less than worn-out ring. The Cracker Barrel puzzle of trying to get the ring off without removing the crank arm was a fail.

Damn it.

The last piece of maintenance? Gluing a multi-panel chamois back together.

All because I had some time, a place, some beer, and the impetus of riding around on a noisy bike all day Saturday...

Which I will get back to tomorrow.

The moral of the story? Work on your shit once and awhile. If you don't know how to, then learn. If you don't wanna learn, support your LBS with your money and brownies. Word on the street is that real mechanics prefer brownies over beer.

Glad I am not a real mechanic.

6 comments:

AdamB said...

Brownies are okay. Send over some Happy Ending! (the beer, at least)

wv = opess

bentcrank said...

That depends on who made the brownies!

You should have gone to Dalton Saturday and rode the Snake!

Oh, and I am sure your Happy Ending looked more like chocolate milk then what I was wanting. There was nothing wrong with my Sweet Water IPA!

Big E said...

Lies! All Lies! I way perfer beer. But then again. I'm maybe not the best mechanic either...

Anonymous said...

I loathe niner rings for that very reason...

MM said...

Ahhhh, Sugoi chamois pads...the only thing to break down sooner is Sugoi stitching...

BUCK said...

What kinda brownie?