Stupid Is

“I’m going to play a tennis match tonight”

“Are you nuts?”

I thought about being coy with my response to the question, but, well, she has a point. There was no use denying what has long been obvious.

“Yes.”

Simple and sweet.

Not quite two weeks ago, I turned my ankle while riding my mountain bike. It was an injury that would have been avoided if I chose to listen to common sense, taken the minute or two to put on my bike shoes rather than venture out wearing only flip flops. My bike has clipless pedals, require shoes with reinforced stiff soles and metal cleats that clip into the pedals. The pedals are small. I was in a hurry, late for the race I had volunteered to help marshall, so I wanted to get right to my post. It didn’t matter that my post was deep in the woods, at the back end of the race course, and I would have to ride the rough, sometimes steep narrow dirt trails to get there. When the race was over, I would have to help remove the taped barriers that marked the course route.

The race was a timed race, with participants released into the course every 5 minutes. It was my job to report when a rider passed my check point, provide encouragement to each rider as they negotiated the steep route sections up to my station, then pedaled down a severe drop around the back, back up, then over a straight down drop that comes back over a table top jump. People come up to my post to watch and cheer, ringing cowbells and blowing horns. Riders are usually fatigued when they reach that point in the race, the tough climbs taking their toll on the legs, and there can be some real drama to witness, the struggle to get over the steep rooty section a challenge. Only three riders made it up and over the roots without stopping to walk or run their bike up the rest of the climb. Last year, I brought my trumpet with me, blew taps if someone didn’t make it to the top. That got a bad reaction from a man who lived close by, a veteran who said that taps brought back bad memories.

When the race was finished, I climbed back on my bike and started the task of taking down the tape barriers. I had to negotiate the trails carefully, not just because I was wearing flips, but also because the trails were damp from a light rain that had fallen the night before.

That dampness was my downfall. Each time I stopped to take down some barrier tape, the bottom of my flip flops got wet. With wet pedals and ‘shoes’, I zipped down the side of a berm, then back up the other side. When I came over the top of the opposite berm, my right foot slipped sideways off of the pedal, turning my ankle in the process. Oops. I didn’t think much of it. There wasn’t much pain. However, later on, I noticed a bit of pain on the outside of my foot while I was walking. The foot swelled a little bit, but I figured the swelling would be gone in a day or two, and I would be back to normal. Monday, it was tender. While walking across the parking lot at work, there was a loud popping sound from my foot, with a sharp pain.

Crap. It really hurt. I knew I was hurt. Oh no…it’s the beginning of the spring/summer. Biking plans are ramping up, the outdoor tennis season is starting.

Did I mention how much of a doof I am? I can’t rest an injury. I tried staying off of the foot as much as possible, but I didn’t ice it lest my wife think I was too injured to bike or play tennis. Last weekend, a week after the initial injury, I spent the day walking with her at a spring garden festival, visited garage sales with her that morning (rode my bike in, yes, flip flops). We got home, cooked burgers on the grill and played bags… and I turned the ankle again. This time it swelled up like a stuffed sausage. Lisa insisted I visit an urgent care the next day to make sure it wasn’t more than a sprain. Since then, I have soaked it every evening in a hot epsom salt bath, followed by ice. The swelling is gone. It feels relatively good.

So, when Norm, my doubles tennis partner, asked me this morning if I wanted to play our scheduled match this evening, I said yes.

Thus, the ‘Are you nuts?’.

I didn’t play. She was right in more ways than one. She also reminded me that in a few weeks we will be in Turkey, a trip that will involve a lot of walking and hiking. Screwing the foot/ankle up again will probably mean it will take longer to recover.

It’s nice to have a voice of reason to counter my lack of common sense……

Essential

Like the majority of the people I know, I am working from home and have been since the middle of last month.  For me, the only real adjustment was staying home five days a week, instead of the one day I was accustomed to.  My commute to the office is 37 miles, one way, with $6.00 total tolls a day, so this is a time that I am enjoying.  Other people I talk to, not so much appreciation for the isolation.  Aside from not being able to work overtime, which I need to make my budget, there has been very little in terms of suffering for me.  On the contrary, this time has been a blessing for me so far.  I think I have communicated that here already.

I realize it’s not the same perspective for everyone.  I may even be in the minority.  Plenty are laid off, not being paid, stressed from financial worry or hunger or sickness.  This is not an easy time, could get worse.  Part of the whole difficulty is just plain not sure of what is in store for us or how much worse this whole situation will get.  Life as we know it has changed, some components of change could be permanent.

Life for me really isn’t that different.  This time of year, I am always waiting for the weather to change, am excited for the extra daylight each day.  Every day without precipitation is a bike day for me and I love it.  No one is making me stay away from riding.  Nothing has changed in my two wheeled world.  Adding to my bliss are the trail conditions at my favorite bike park — pristine trails nearly every day.  Needless to say, I am feeling like I am ahead of schedule on the bike, riding faster and stronger than I usually am this time of year.  A pig in s#@* has nothing on me.  The bike I bought last year still feels new to me, mainly because last season was so wet, so discovering the joys of riding a carbon frame are adding to that bliss.

Speaking of that carbon frame, I experienced a very frightening event last Thursday while driving out to the trails.  My son has been asking to ride with me, so I bought some new flat pedals and put them on my fat bike (the 9Zero7.. such a sweet ride).  The fattie was stuffed in the back of my Subaru, my Salsa perched on my Yakima hitch rack.  When I put the Salsa on the rack, I noticed that the swingarm felt ‘mushy’ as I swung it over the front wheel.  Eager to get going and on our way, I didn’t pay it any mind.  I should have.  Driving at 70+ mph west on I-88, I looked in my rear view mirror just as the bike disappeared from sight.

Alarmed to the n’th degree, I must gasped so deeply that I sucked all of the air out of the inside of my car.  My son had the same reaction.  He has learned to appreciate the value of that Salsa bike, so he was just as scared as I was.  I edged the car over to the left shoulder of the tollway, relieved to see in my side view mirror that the bike was laying flat on the bike rack.  How much longer that would be the case, I didn’t know.

The swing arm had rusted through at the bottom, had broken an inch from the bottom.  It didn’t break completely, so somehow it was still holding the front wheel.  The strap on the rear wheel tray was still holding the rear wheel in place.  I had been extremely lucky.  Nervously, I removed the bike from the rack, started to put the bike on the rear of the rack, only to notice that the bracket for the rear wheel tray on that part of the rack was beginning to rust away.  Unsure, I decided to try it there any way, leaned on the bike after it was secured, hoped the rear portion of the rack would not break.  If it did, the result would be a very nice bike tumbling down the road behind my car.

We made it to the trails.  My son followed me in without hesitation, rode to the back of the park with me, then asked me if it was OK if he rode on his own for a while.  I understood.  He wanted to explore and get comfortable on his own.  So I gave him instructions on how to find the parking lot if he got lost (the road is THAT way — point that direction if you get lost).  I took off, rode the park by myself for 90 minutes, met him at the parking lot, rode the front trail with him.  It was a blast for the both of us.  I have happily created a new mountain bike junkie.

The trails were packed with people, a lot of families getting out together.  It’s been that way nearly every time I have been to the trails in the past month.  I think it goes without saying that bikes are essential during this time, as are the outdoors and exercise.  If anything positive is coming out of this time of quarantine (there are many positives), it’s that families and individuals are once again getting out together.  This time could bring this culture back into a healthy perspective.

Oh.. and Yakima is staying true to their lifetime warranty on the bike rack.  With little to no hassle, and with a very prompt response, they are replacing the rack.  It was an expensive purchase, so I am very satisfied that I don’t have to buy another rack!

Bed Magnet

One of the reasons I ride a bicycle, or exercise at all, is that I believe it gives me energy, maintains my body, keeps my joints and guts and mind all working the way they should.  God made us to function, to move, and to be alive means to move.

I don’t always feel that way when I get home from a long day at work.  After getting up at 5 AM, making the long trek to the office, nose to the grindstone all day, and negotiating the maze of tollway traffic on the way home, it honestly requires a bit of effort to resist the temptation to flop down on my bed and close my eyes.  If I do that, the tired buzz grows as I sink into the mattress, a fog that overtakes me and holds me like a magnet to the bed.  It’s too easy to say no to what I know is best for me, which is to change into my bike or workout clothes and get my butt out the door.  Sluggishness takes over far too easily, tells me that I am just too weary to function for the evening.  I go over in my mind what the rest of the week looks like, tell myself that I will have the time to ride the next few evenings.  After all, a nice nap and a home cooked meal will give me the rest and recuperation that I need.

Sometimes that is true.  Sometimes I do need a night of food, brew, and couch TV.

(note — I went without TV intentionally a good part of this year when Comcast decided to rape me.  The time without the tube was very good.  I just recently decided to connect an antenna.)

I resist the call of the nap more often than not.  When I forego the bed plop, change into my bike clothes and head back out the door, the transformation from weary worker to refreshed and energized as the blood begins to circulate is amazing.  Just a few turns of the pedals brings me out of the haze, my mind once again awake and rejoins my body.  I much prefer it that way, my mood transformed by the activity.

Last night I came home after a second day of overtime, a fog descending over me as I trudged up the stairs to my condo.  I didn’t realize how tired I was until my feet hit those stairs.  My plan was to take advantage of a picture perfect evening, still and cool and cloudless.  I allowed myself to be pulled to the bed, an ahhhhhh escaping from my lips as the pillow’s comfort instantly absorbed some of the fog.  Just a few minutes, then I will get on the bike.  Ten minutes later, my eyes opened, the evening’s light through the blinds in my bedroom beginning to dim.

I didn’t want it to be one of those evenings.  I didn’t want to finish off the evening with the dread that I wasted an opportunity to ride.  A quick review of the remainder of the week’s schedule revealed that I wouldn’t have another chance to get out for a ride until Saturday.  So I practically sprung out of bed, changed into shorts, tee shirt, and a fleece pullover.

I am so glad that I did.  The ride was a casual, medium paced jaunt along the beautiful forest preserve paths.  Lakes, an old stable, peaceful forests all greeted me in the waning light.  My fat bike is equipped with an adequate LED headlight and tail light, just enough to guide me home.  My energy transformed, my soul comforted, I returned home to grill some chicken, enjoy a mindless movie (The Night of the Living Dead… this guy likes zombies).

Resistance works.  Now just to completely resist that bed magnet!

Drizzle

Saturday morning, my morning, the time reserved just for me… mine, mine, mine.  I’m not sure when I claimed the sanctity of that time, but it has been that way for a while now.  Perhaps it is due to what it means to my health, the zen of turning the pedals renews me not only physically but also mentally.  If I miss my Saturday ride, I feel it more than just in my body.  I feel it in my soul.

I rolled eagerly from under the warm embrace of the bedcovers, unaware of the tug of their security, quickly pulled them up and arranged the pillows.  That’s my habit, the tidiness of my small abode as essential to my well being as the zen of the ride.  Judging from the dim light in my bedroom, it was probably dreary weather outside, expected since the weather report was for clouds all morning, followed by rain in the afternoon.  To my dismay, the puddles on my balcony were proof that there had been rain while I slept, but as I looked beyond the balcony to the dirt below, there had not been enough rain to make it muddy.  There had been several days in a row without significant precipitation.  My heart told me that I would be able to ride.

Ken, a retiree who maintains the condo pool, was collecting spare change for the Knights of Colombus at the first stoplight.  “You going to be able to ride that thing?”, he asked as he pointed to my mountain bike, “It rained earlier this morning.”.  I assured him that it hadn’t rained hard enough, but I fretted as I told him that.  Dark clouds loomed in the west.  I hoped to beat the rain, but it looked like it could rain any moment.  I fought the temptation to turn my car around and head back home, do something more constructive with my time than to drive out to the trails only to have to turn back around.  No, I was going to take my chances, even as a bit of drizzle began to mist my windshield.

Please, God, just let the rain hold off long enough for me to get a ride in.

The drizzle continued on and off as I drove.  I tried to remain optimistic, determined to get that ride in.  I needed it.  With the evening light shortened and work preventing me from riding in the morning, Sundays not an option either, my Saturday morning ride is even more essential and sacred.

I unloaded my bike immediately, donned my shoes and helmet and gloves, rode in from the trailhead without checking the trail.  Thankfully, even with the drizzle, the trail was still dry and safe to ride.  My body warmed quickly, a safeguard against the cool moisture that soaked me.  It didn’t matter, I was riding.  The woods were calm, the trails tacky from the light moisture.  Two hours later, I finished my ride, satisfied and pleasantly taxed.  A light rain began to fall, perhaps a reminder from God of the gift I had just received.

What a way to start the day!  I arrived home to partly sunny skies, shared a long walk with Lisa to the grocery store and shared some ice cream with her on the way home.  The day was mine, with plenty of other blessings in store.  It’s amazing what a ride does for me, especially when a prayer brings the blessings amidst the drizzle.

 

How a cyclist plays tennis

If you are a cyclist or have spent any amount of time around cyclists, you are going to understand and relate to this question — what is it about cycling that attracts obsessive personality types?  Case in point is my friend, J, who lives and breathes for the next ride (real or virtual), speaks the constant language of bikes and components, supplements his diet with every little supplement that will enhance his performance.  I contributed to his addiction 15 years ago, the person he attributes for getting him back on the bicycle after his hiatus from triathlons.  The guy is a legend in the western burbs of Chicagoland now, a machine on the bike even after undergoing a full knee replacement.  It was funny listening to the commentator at an indoor virtual race this past January, who described J as the $10,000 man and gushed over J as he demolished everyone in his heat.  That race was less than a year after his knee replacement.

The knee replacement is a another example of J’s obsessive trait.  Before the replacement, he spent nearly every waking hour visiting forums to discuss the types of artificial components with other cyclists.  He shared that with his doctor, wanted to make sure that the surgery wouldn’t affect his performance.  It hasn’t.  J is still a beast.  The only change is that now he only races bike/swim events, the knee making it impractical for him to run.

J and I started playing tennis together this past Spring, something I like to do.  This year has been wet, as well, so tennis became a way to exercise when I can’t ride off road or want a break from riding the limestone rails-to-trails paths.  There is a tennis court at my condo clubhouse, next to the pool, so it’s great to play a few hours followed by a dip in the pool.  This summer, we have become a fixture at the court, residents used to seeing us there and many trash talk us from the pool.  As the summer has progressed, we have played more and more, often playing until dark.

J has taken to tennis like he cycles — he can’t wait until the next game.  He has become that little kid who constantly knocks on the front door and asks if Stevie can come out to play.  We played three hours Sunday, then another two last night, the texts taunting me to play (I wanted to be a couch potato last night!!) starting yesterday afternoon.  It was good.  I needed motivation to get out and exercise yesterday, my 5 AM morning commute and the three hours on the court the night before making my body say no to practically everything.  J has bought three new racquets in the last month, various grips, head and wrist sweat bands, a case of tennis balls, new shoes, tennis attire.  He just posted on FB an announcement of his new joy of tennis, named me as his nemesis.  We have people challenging us to play, residents of my condos that want to dethrone me from last year’s doubles tournament title.

It’s all good.  Tennis is fun and my body is used to the extra pounding that comes from hard court exercise.  Despite a slower season on the bike, I am in better shape than I have been in years… I am no longer a shape, I am in shape.

So, I will keep playing tennis with my obsessed buddy until the next thing comes along.  Soon, Zwift season starts for him, but he’s already looking at tennis club memberships…..

Puddletrack

Tags

fun, life, personal

Too bad my fat bike doesn’t float.  The tires are large, but they are not buoyant.  Here in northern Illinois, we are having one of the wettest Spring seasons on record.  For off road bicyclists such as myself, that can be frustrating.  It’s not good for most people.  The trails closest to me are next to a river, are built on and in between berms that are swampy even during the dry seasons.  For more than a month, they have not been rideable.

Some people don’t care, judging from the damage to the trails.  This picture was taken a few days ago.  It’s obvious that there are quite a few people who just rode through it.  The section pictured is a the bottom of the trail head connector.  I am surprised that it wasn’t blocked.  When I rode last night, it was still a quagmire though no longer covered with water.  I turned around and entered the trail from another connector.  Riding mud is not fun, plus it screws with a bike.

We had a few days without much rain.  Most of the trails were in great shape last night, although I still had to be careful, had to avoid some trails.  Last Sunday afternoon, I rode another trail system in the Chicago area with some friends.  They were scary difficult, rocky with steep and twisty descents/climbs.  My new bike, a carbon Salsa Deadwood SLX with 29+ wheels (2.6 tires, for now) helped give me the confidence to at least attempt everything.  Three hours of riding and I was satisfied, not as tired as I could have been.  Even though off road cycling has not been a viable option for the past month, I have been riding.

My fat tired bike has proved to be an entertaining riding option.  Pretty much out my front door are forest preserves and rails-to-trails paths, so I have been riding 4-5 days a week on those trails.  There is an old landfill a few minutes away, now a recreational area, that has added an option for climbing.  There is more resistance to riding paths, especially on a fat tired bike, so I feel stronger now than ever.  I ain’t no stud, but I ain’t no slouch either.  Of course, my roadie friends have helped me a little.  We have ventured out on the path the past two Wednesdays, rode to a little craft brewery to participate in their trivia night (third place the first time we trivia’d), then trekked home with lights.  It’s tremendous fun!

When it rains on my cycling parade, I make my own parade, I guess.

Another gully washer this afternoon.  Rats.

Goodbye?

It’s time.  My Specialized Camber FSR 29″ has been a great first serious mountain bike, but its size medium frame has always been a little too small for my 6’1″ body.  I am still hedging a bit, but I listed it for sale this past Saturday, with links to the Craigslist ad posted on several mountain bike group sites, as well as FB Marketplace.

I picked up the bike from the shop last Friday afternoon, paid them $200 to assemble the components from the old frame to the warranty replacement frame.  The bike now has a new medium frame, new drive train (cassette, chain, chainrings, rear derailleur), new handlebar grips, seat, and tires that were new last August.  The shocks have been serviced and rebuilt, as has the bottom bracket.

If the bike fit me, I would keep it.  It’s ready for the season and it looks very good.  The picture was taken last Saturday morning, before I washed up the tires for the listing.  I love the bike and just spent a little over $450 to get it ready to ride.  Instead, I am crossing my fingers that someone will buy it for close to the $1500 asking price (my basement price is $1000).  The money I get will go towards the purchase of a new bike that will fit me.

Someone offered me $750 last night, told me that a bike blue book website says it is only worth close to $800 in good condition.  I told him I would take $1200 since the site doesn’t take into account a new frame and components that were upgraded to Rockshox and SRAM GX from the Suntour suspension and low end Shimano shifting components the website used to calculate the value.  $1200 is a very fair price for this bicycle, as is the $1500 asking price.  There are also two people coming by to look at the bike tonight.  I am not going to give the bike away and will simply keep it if I don’t get the price that I want.

Flow

Tuesday night was one of the best evenings yet this year.  I visited SWK for a single track ride, the chance to ride in shorts and tee shirt on trails in pristine condition something I just could not pass up.  Weather for the next few days was not predicted to be dry or favorable.  What greeted me when I arrived for my ride was a packed parking lot, with one empty spot next to where my friends Greg and Carrie were parked.  I saw other vehicles I recognized.  It was near certain that I would encounter friends somewhere along the ride, would not be riding alone.

Sure enough, a few minutes in, I came up on a group of 8 friends, all regulars and a few I have not seen since last November.  We were all pumped to be riding together again, on such a perfect evening for a ride.  Perhaps adding to my enjoyment as I joined them was the feeling that I am faster right now, a combo of the added strength from riding the fat bike since last January as well as a lighter body and carbon bike.  I am flying, maybe a little more confident.  During the course of the ride, only the leader was in front of me, and many riders waved me to the front as we entered a trail.  It was a good feeling, one I haven’t had for a while.  Oh, I have had my moments prior to now, but not like it is right now.

My friend is NOT going to get his full carbon Superfly back!  I wish I could keep it.  The speed is an awesome feeling, although with the added speed and ability to clear berms is a difference in handling.  Faster means I need to react quicker to an upcoming obstacle or tight turn, dig in a bit more.  As I get used to the bike, I am beginning to learn how to handle it.  I have yet to find a flow, something that I will need to ride with the faster riders (which may or may not happen), stay off of the brakes and let the bike go.  I had to be conscious of letting the bike slow before a descent and only feathering the brakes on the way down, if at all.

The ride ended in the parking lot with a bunch of us gathered in our chairs behind a friend’s truck, enjoying the stories from our ride well after the sun had gone down.  It was indeed a sublime, energizing evening.

I love to ride.  Have I ever said that?  🙂

 

Sunny and Single Track

In my world, every Saturday, every weekend, should have the same forecast — sunny and single track.  I am nearly 58 years old, yet nothing brings out the boy in me more than days like yesterday.  Even yet this morning, I am still energized, still buoyed by the ride.  It was one of those days where the plan went right, even when there were hiccups.

Sun greeted me as I pulled back the drapes and opened the bedroom blinds, as is my routine.  Prior to bed, the furnace had been turned off, the sliding glass doors in the living room and kitchen pulled open enough to let the fresh cool air fill the space in my small home.  There is a simple pleasure to pulling back the warm covers to be greeted by the coolness of a fresh morning, the warmth of the bed still with me as I pull a shirt over my head, shuffle to the kitchen and put the water on the stove to boil.  More often than not, I listen to some quiet music at the kitchen table while the honey sweetened oatmeal soothes me.  I checked the weather from my phone to confirm the day’s weather would be as promised — cool in the morning, 70 degree temperatures by the afternoon.  Satisfied, I determined my plan for the day would be to wait until the afternoon to ride, when I could ride in shorts and tee shirt, the damp from the previous days’ rain gone from the trails.

It was glorious.  In the morning, I performed the needed tasks and chores for my weekend, drove my son to work (he no longer has a car), then hit the trails.  My friend, Jim, has loaned me one of his two full carbon Trek Superfly mountain bikes to ride while I wait for a replacement.  I had picked up his soft tail bike a few days earlier, found it needed a few tweaks to be fully rideable — clean up the pads and rotors (the geese would have been following me through the woods), refresh the charge in the rear shock, adjust seat height.  The bike is indeed full carbon, including the wheels, so it’s a light ride.  I was glad for a chance to ride the first few miles of trail by myself, since I had to get used to handling a faster and lighter bike.  When I met my friends Greg and Ernesto on one of the trails, I was ready to go.  While it still took some effort to keep up, I did keep up, even cleared the most technical trail without a single dab, something I have only been able to accomplish once on my heavier aluminum Camber.  I witnessed Greg ride off the side of the trail to avoid some hikers, miraculously avoiding a fall down the side of a berm into the swampy waters.  He was not feeling well the rest of our ride.

I did visit the bike shop in the morning, as I had only talked to them over the phone prior to yesterday.  I wanted some more information on the frame replacement for my Specialized Camber FSR.  They really hadn’t given me much information at all, have not told me what is going to be involved.  When I brought my bike in to ask about the warranty, I had removed the chain and had installed a few new drive train components, so I wanted to know what was going to be reused.  I also wanted to know if they would be installing the new cassette and chain that I had.  They didn’t really know much at all, so I left them the new cassette and chain, assuming that the replacement frame was going to be frame only (I assume that is the case).  I asked them once again to consider asking Specialized to send a large frame instead of a medium, a request that was instantly rejected.  I didn’t fight and told them I wouldn’t fight them, but did ask them if it would be better if their customer was 100% satisfied instead of feeling placated.  The response was a weak grin, as if I was being a jerk for asking.  I don’t feel like a jerk for asking.  I work for the factory, know it can be uncomfortable asking them for a little more, but also know it’s more important to make sure a customer is satisfied with the outcome than to simply do the least.  That’s the sure way to lose a customer.  Do I think I will go elsewhere?  Not likely, but I sure would like to see my shop try to do a little more for me.

It was still a sunny day.  It was a wonderful ride, the pleasant burn of fatigue in my legs a welcome reminder of an effort that was never an effort.  When I got home, I showered, ran an errand, then enjoyed a pleasant dinner with a pretty neighbor who is becoming a nice friend.  I walked her to her front door after dinner, early, then hit the sack around 10 PM.  This was an early morning, since I took that neighbor friend to the airport at 5 this morning.

Enjoy your day.  May your day be sunny and single track!

Bittersweet

My Specialized Camber FSR, last year.

The ride was a fun jaunt , a blessing as it was a beautiful day to ride with good trail conditions, something we don’t get much of in late December here in northern Illinois.  I was riding with Greg and Ernesto, two talented riders and friends.  They had been joking about how I don’t shift — my preference is to muscle over the tough stuff.  It slows me down.  Greg especially likes to bust my chops, his way of teaching me a few things about riding a mountain bike.  The guy is very good on a bike and each time I ride with him, my skills improve as he shows me something else to help me out.  During the ride, I was intentionally shifting before hitting a steep section or roots.  The shifting didn’t seem quite right.

We were about done with our ride, riding a semi technical trail called Wildcat on our way back to the parking lot.  I shifted to an easier gear to get up and over a large root, a frightful clunk from my rear derailleur as I pushed to get over the root.  I braked immediately and hoped that the derailleur hadn’t been bent or sucked into the rear spokes.  Nothing of that sort had happened, but the chain had slipped over the rear cassette (the gear cluster).  I pulled the chain out and back in place, but noticed that the derailleur wasn’t aligned right.  Sure enough, I climbed back on the bike and turned the pedals, only to have the chain slip over the rear cogs again.  I had no choice but to heft the Camber over my shoulder and tote it back the short walk to the parking lot.

My friends looked my bike over, were puzzled over the position of the derailleur.  It wasn’t bent nor did the hanger look bent, but it was clearly positioned too far inward, almost in the spokes.  Normally, I would have dropped the bike off at the shop on the way home, but I was severely cash strapped at the time and my credit card was screaming from a recent expensive repair (as I am accustomed to) on my VW.  The mountain bike would have to wait until I could give it attention or I had the money to have the shop repair it.  My gut told me that it was real possible this was going to be bad.

January came with new snow and the fat bike purchase, a deal so good I could not pass it up.  While my friend sold me that bike with the understanding that I would pay him as I could, it meant that extra money would go towards that bike and not towards fixing my Specialized Camber FSR mountain bike.  I rode the fat bike with the idea I would replace the shifting components on my mountain bike in time for Spring single track.  That is what I did.  I ordered new 36T chain ring (it’s a 2 x 10 set up), chain, cassette, SRAM GX medium cage derailleur, derailleur hanger.  The chain ring was replaced first, bottom bracket cleaned and inspected.  I installed the new derailleur hanger, then the derailleur.

The new derailleur wouldn’t align, hung the same way the old one had the day the bike broke down.  Uh oh.  I set the bike aside.  When my friend, Jeremy, came over last Saturday for a ride, he took a look at the bike… and saw the issue immediately.  Jeremy is a good wrench, an experienced bike mechanic.  The frame on my Specialized was cracked at the chainstay, twisted enough so that the derailleur would not align.  I took my bike to the shop that afternoon (two weeks ago), hoping that the lifetime frame warranty that the manufacturer advertises would be honored.  I needed it to be.  I can’t afford to have it fixed right now, or worse need to buy a new bike.  Recent news of a $4000 federal tax debt, coupled with upcoming property taxes and other expenses have me financially challenged.  I don’t need another debt.

The shop manager didn’t paint a rosy picture when he looked at my bike.  He inspected it to see if a frame pivot bearing had seized and had caused the frame to stress.  The bearing wasn’t seized, but he prepared me for possible bad news from the manufacturer.  They may not honor the warranty.

No news from the shop on Monday.  I waited until late Tuesday afternoon, then called the shop.  They told me the warranty claim had been submitted.  The Specialized rep had not responded on the warranty claim yet.  I was worried.  My bike model has been discontinued, so frame parts may not be available.  Would they replace the entire frame?

I received an email from the shop yesterday afternoon, with news that the frame section could not be replaced, as I had expected.  Specialized had to send a whole new frame as a warranty replacement.  I would be responsible to pay $200 for the labor to put the bike together.

 

This was a pic taken not too long after I bought my Camber.  The small fit should be obvious.

Good news!  There was one concern, however.  I wished the shop had called to get my OK.  Why?  My bike is a medium frame, has always been too small for my 6’1″ body.  When I bought the bike, I was too excited to finally have my first new bicycle, my first new “expensive” bicycle.  It was my baby, the bike I had waited decades to be able to buy.  Even though it felt too small from the first day I rode it, I didn’t take it back because I was too much of a weenie to wait (or have to pay more money) to get a large frame.  So, when I received the email from the shop yesterday about the replacement frame, I immediately replied and asked if the replacement frame could be a large instead of medium.

When I didn’t get a reply back, I called.  The shop told me that Specialized would not give me a large frame.  It had to be the same size as the frame it was replacing.

*Sigh*

Rather than make a stink, I thanked them and ended the call.  I am disappointed.  Instead of feeling 100% satisfied, I am feeling a little disrespected.  At the moment, I feel like I just had my hand slapped for making the request, like I was asking too much of them.  I shouldn’t feel that way.  Why not try to make me 100% satisfied?  I am a loyal customer and one who will eventually buy more bikes — but I am not feeling so good right now, when I should be ecstatic.  Instead, it’s a let down.  I am contemplating selling the replacement bike as soon as I get it (hopefully, next week), use the money from the sale to buy a bike I will be happier with.  One that fits me and allows me to fully enjoy my rides.  I don’t like the idea of making payments on another bike right now, as it will stretch my budget beyond what I am comfortable with.  Heck, I don’t even have the $200 for the labor charge I am going to have to pay!

I have needed to replace my Camber due to the fit problem.  The seat tube has to be extended so far that it often falls during the course of a ride, taxing my knees and affecting performance.  Maybe this is the push I needed to get my cheap butt out to buy a new bike, despite whether I can afford it or not.  Specialized is fantastic, but there are other manufacturers out there who will want my business.  We shall see.  Santa Cruz, maybe?  Salsa?  Trek?  Pivot?  Ibis?