Streak Ded

I woke up this past Sunday knowing there was much to be done.  A towel wrapped in all kinda of nasty clothes from the last lap at the 6 Hours of Warrior Creek left on the porch.  A plastic bag full of slightly less nasty clothing from the other two laps.  A bike that really needed a lot of attention.  Another bike that needed to be shoved in a cardboard box to go to Sedona.

So I got up and watched the Paris Roubaix.

Once that was over, I got down to business.

Things that were not just covered in mud but covered in clumps of mud.  Never seen that before.

Water in there... mebbe from the post-race bike-dunk in the lake?

It was a quick dunk, so I think mebbe from all the wets.

In the end, I pulled the seals off a bunch of the bearings, blew them out, and repacked them.  Also, my brake pads were shot (which added some excitement on that last lap), so I pulled them out, did the piston cleansing/lubing thing, and put in some freshies from TruckerCo.  All ready for PMBAR in a few weeks.... once I get my Santa Cruz 780 bars on there... braaaaaaaaaap.

By the time the Vertigo Meatplow V.7 was basically rebuilt, it was 3:30PM.  Meh.

Time to stick the squishy shifty shits in a box.

An activity that leads me to believe that if I ever ship a bike for travel again, it's my single speed or nothing.  That 800mm handlebar barely fit from corner to corner.  Any longer, and I woulda had to remove all the bits from the bar.  Had to pop the crank off one side, drop the shifty bit off its bit hanger, etc.  What a PITA.  I shoulda just told Matt McPee that I forgot to ship my bike and just borrow one of the Hermosa Tours bikes.

Send-ona Mancation '18 in a week.   Woot.

Oh, and Sunday marked something else.  It was my first day without a bike ride since November 27th (or so).  I don't remember when I realized I was on a streak, but it recently dawned on me that it was gonna die the day that I flew out to Sedona (or back), so screw it.  I took the day off and that was that.  Some of my rides were nothing more than riding to my mom's place or home from Bill Nye's house after a night of debauching, but they were still actual rides (not driveway wheelie tests).  There were some miserable weather rides in there, but I've got more GORE Wear than I do excuses at this point.

It was fun while it lasted... I guess.