It Took Longer To Write This Post.

I got home a half hour earlier than the family. I quickly changed and ran downstairs to the garage. All of the parts and tools were ready, so I just had to throw the ti bike in the work stand and get to wrenching.
  
The broken shifter came off easily. Snip the respective derailleur and brake cables, loosen the binding bolts, feel the cable through the housing and out of the shifter, loosen the one bolt that hold the shifter to the bar, and I'm done. The housings and bar tape stay in place, because they're in good condition and I'm lazy.
  
I reused the brake cable, because it was in good shape and I could feed it back through the housing without fraying the hell out of it. The derailleur cable? Not so much. No matter. The new shifter went on about as fast as the old one came off. I spent more time adjusting the rear derailleur than I did installing the shifter, because I suck at it. Eventually I got it to sound somewhat less like a washing machine full of bricks, so I called it good enough.
  
The ti bike is rideable again. I may replace the chain and clean it up, but the lazy side of me says that it's going to get filthy again in the first 100 feet of the first ride, so why bother? There may be something to that train of thought. I may wait until the snowmelt puddles recede a bit before I go all crazy with maintenance. Maybe a quick hose down and cleaning the drivetrain will suffice for now.

It feels good to fix things for a change. 
  
  
  
  
  
  
 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Luke Simpson

Image
A couple years ago I participated in a stage race and had the honor to meet Saul Raisin, the former professional cyclist that suffered a debilitating traumatic brain injury during a race in Europe. As I listened to him speak and later read his book about his recovery, I (probably like most people) had two thoughts:                 “What an inspiring story.” …and more callously,                 “Wow, sucked to be him.” The second thought was just a result of thinking it would never happen to me. If you run the odds, it just doesn’t factor into the threat matrix as prominently as teenage girls with cell phones or that sketchy Cat 5 on the brand-new Madone. Then I got my bell rung. I’ve seen my share of stars and cartoon tweety birds over the years, but this was the first time I was knocked unconscious and woke up in an ER. Another driver’s moment of inattention resulted in a totaled car and weeks of disorientation, speech delays, and random face plants. It didn’t occu
Read more

Narrowed Focus

OK, here's the fun part.   You're clinging to the wheel in front of you. Doing everything to stay in contact, because you know in the deepest parts of your soul that if a gap opens, you will never close it, and you will be adrift. That few inches of space is your whole purpose in life.   People wait their whole lives to see the scenery on either side of you, but you're too busy focusing on meaningless points up the road. You're hoping that by acknowledging them that they will somehow help you climb this hill. They don't, because they're inanimate objects like signposts and rocks. Selfish bastards.   You match cadence with the guy in front of you, promising yourself that every time their right foot comes down, your right foot will come down. That you won't stand unless they stand. That you will be every bit as strong as they are, even if you aren't.   The steady ache in your thighs keeps building. You know all you have to do to make it stop is to
Read more

Perhaps Where I need to Be.

  The last time I was in Biloxi was in November of 2016. I was recovering from a broken collar bone, but otherwise was relatively fit, lean, and getting fitter and leaner. Because I had nothing else to do and energy to burn, I rode a lot. It was wasted effort that translated into burnout during the trainer season, but I really didn't care. I hadn't been riding at all. A handful of road rides before the season ended. A couple fat bike rides when the trails near my house were packed well. Mostly I've hiked, cross-country skied, and sat on my fat ass. Primarily the latter. I knew I was going to be spending the month of February in Biloxi. I swore I was going to get back on the trainer in preparation, but I never did. I came in cold. I packed all sorts of warmers and raingear and stuff that I have yet to use.I forgot all sorts of tools. My tires were excessively worn and my tubes weren't in great shape either. I ended up buying new ones after a horrible first ride led to 4
Read more