Basket Cased

Since I brought you into the sad drama that was/is the basket on my tarck bike dilemma, I thought I'd give you some closure.

Chris M hooked me up with a stem.

 This was truly the only option, as I wasn't going to:

a. Pay $50 for a "vintage" 1" quill stem.

b. Machine down my Syncros stem, knowing that if I hated the basket, I'd live with that regret forever.

So, a free stem really was the way.  This one was aesthetically pleasing and slightly period correct as well, although weighing much more than the Syncros and lacking a "My penis is big in Japan" sticker.

Unfortunately, it has a 26.0 clamp diameter, and I have 25.4 bars.  A shim from a can was in order.

Doubly unfortunately, all the beer in my house is currently in bottles.  Wednesday evening on my commute home from work, I kept my eye out for the least disgusting can I could find on the side of the road.  I passed on a Steel Reserve and settled for a Canada Dry ginger ale.

Why am I working on the unicorn rug on the floor?

Because no one has come by recently to clean up my work bench. 

I could date the last time it was clean based on the items on it and approximate date that they were obtained.  I'd say early August based on the Industry Nine fender that Dirty gave me at SSUSA towards the back.

Shim trimmed and installed, grab all the tiny rack bits, drop many of them on the floor in the process, locate them, tighten to 4nm, voila.

Now between the PDW Takeout Basket and the Hip Monkey from Mystery Ranch...

there should never be a commute home (even if I stop to pick up beer and tomatoes) where I'm challenged for cargo space.  The bike messenger bag will stay at work for when I need to actually be a bike messenger.  I suppose I can break it out at Halloween as well if I'm stumped on costume ideas.

If I had one ounce of street cred left, I probably lost it today.  Bring that up to me next summer when it's 100° and I'm cruising home shirtless and free as opposed to covered from hip to neck in several layers of Cordura and truck tarp.

William Wallace was correct.  Freedom is dope.