Wednesday, August 11, 2010

In which Jim is an idiot

I went along on a group ride out of Allentown today, and had a rub on the bike I couldn't find; it wasn't either brake, and I couldn't find it in the drivetrain. I adjusted the seatpost and saddle, I checked the spokes, I looked at the water bottles and cages, I played with the (wired) computer. Can't figure it out. By the end of the ride, the rear wheel tracking is getting squirrelly, and the cog on it is spontaneously shifting gears (it's gotta be a busted spoke... but no). It was (luckily) a short ride.

As I'm putting the bike on the car rack to check the spokes one last time, I see the quick release is so loose that the wheel is about to fall off. Well, duh.

I keep a bell on my bike, and a fellow rider complained that it sounded like parts were falling off when I rang it. Perhaps she was being prophetic. (And perhaps you don't want to ride too near me for the time being! Although I can assure you, I won't make that mistake again soon.)

In other news, I rode into a bug of some sort, which I thought I wiped away. It turned out that it got down my jersey, and it turned out to be a wasp. It got me once before I dispatched it to wasp heaven. I'm trying to derive some deeper meaning from this event, but all that happened was that a spot under my left arm hurt for a while.

(In other other news, my coworker is back from vacation. Although she's not delighted with being back at work, I sure am glad to have her there!)

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