Disclaimer

In case you haven't figured it out by now, half of what you read here is true, half is made-up and half is unsubstantiable hearsay. Naturally, there is some overlap.

The Strange Life

There's an old saying, "The Lord protects the weak and the poor." And perhaps the stupid, too. But Lord or no, there is certainly some inexplicable force in the universe that comes into play at the most opportune times (or inopportune, depending on your perspective) to create the most astounding results. Coincidence is perhaps the strongest force in Nature.

Something motivated me to put a rubber band around my wallet for the ride home. I had NEVER before put a rubber band around my wallet, for any reason. When I arrived home, I discovered my wallet missing. I turned around, rode the whole way back to the shop along the same path but at twice the speed, eyes peeled and hyper-attentive, pulse 190, then turned around again and rode back home, again on the same path as before. No luck. Dejected, I put my bike away while plotting a strategy: call Visa and MC, call DMV, call police, call bank, etc. And when I walked into the house, my wife said, "Is this your wallet? Some guy just stopped by and said he had found it in the street." Not a dollar was missing. And there was the rubber band, which had prevented the wallet from exploding on impact.

When I was in college, the only snow day in four years was the Monday after I had pulled a 48-hour term paper session and still didn't have the damn thing finished. With my semester grade hanging in the balance, I went to bed at 3:00am for four hours of sleep, prepared to hand in a final draft with the endnotes still an incomprehensible mess. Woke up ten minutes after the class would have started to an ice storm and school cancelled. Can you possibly imagine my relief? Do you think I didn't cry?

More than a few times in my business I have incurred an expense which left me wondering, "How am I going to pay for this?" And then mere hours later I make the grand sale which covers it.

Many times at the end of the business day I have stopped myself from rushing out the door, thinking, "Stop, Wait, You have forgotten something." And just then the air conditioner kicks on.

Each summer for six years I have rebuilt two Campagnolo shifters. The second shifter comes in within a day or two of the first one. Why does it happen this way? Is there some sort of Moon phase, coincidental with a weekend event, preceded by a rain, on an odd date, with the wind from the south, on the day that I ride my Cuevas? With a rubber band around my wallet? What is going on here? The first time, it was like, "oh, great, another busted shifter." Year two I thought, "hmm, just like last summer." Year three was, "that's strange." Year four was, "well, I'll be damned! Just like before!" Now it doesn't surprise me at all. In fact, last summer I predicted it: said to Ed, "look here, our first Campy shifter overhaul. That means another is soon to arrive." Which in fact it did. I actually have a repaired shifter on my bench at this very moment, and I don't doubt that on the day the customer picks it up another one will arrive to take its place.

When I ride Cherry Creek I generally put my keys in one pocket, my wallet in another. But for some reason on this one ride out of hundreds I left my wallet in the car and put my keys in the seat bag WITH A SNAP-RING ON THE ZIPPER to hold it shut. I swear on the C.O.N.I. manual that I had never before in my life put a snap-ring on the zipper of my bike bag. But something made me do it...
There had been a lot of rain in the previous week, and the river was running four, five feet higher than usual, which of course also means that it was fifty feet wider as well. A lot of water running down the creekbed at a pretty high rate, in any case.
My counselor and his padawan were there, and we were on a section that has disappeared gradually over the years, caving-in due to erosion. Normally it doesn't present a problem, we just ride a little higher up the bank, but at this particular spot on this particular night in this particular weather, the trail was held in place by grass and shrubbery and was eroded underneath, all hidden by said shrubbery. It didn't, uh, look all that dangerous...
While passing through, I ducked under a branch, made a little hoopdy on a rock or something, went off balance, felt my rear wheel give a little, botched the recovery, clipped-out with my downhill-side foot to catch myself, and stepped right into...nothing.
Uh-oh.
SPUH-LASH!
Headfirst, upside-down, off my bike, underwater.
UNDERWATER!
SHITSHITSHIT!
WHERE'S MY BIKE?
WHERE'S MY KEYS?
MY WALLET?
WHICH WAY IS UP?
Flailing, kicking, paddling, searching for a handle. A root, some mud, grass, anything. A hundred thoughts simultaneously blazing through my mind in the seconds before I found my footing. I had executed a 180 with a half-gainer on the way in, and at least another 180 with a roll before I found the bottom and stood up with a snort, opened my eyes, and where am I? Facing...downriver! In water almost up to my armpits, and there goes my bike!
AAAH!
Cross bikes, by the way, float upside down with their tires just breaking the surface.
I waded the ten yards downriver, grabbed my bike, dragged it back and then handed it six feet up to my buddies, who then pulled me up. They were speechless. Awed. Dumbstruck. They had missed the show.
And I, laughing my you-know-what off, adrenaline-shot, out of my mind with excitement and glory and victory, gave my bike a shake, straightened my glasses, remounted, and shot off like nothing had happened.
"WAIT!" they shouted.
"HURRY UP!" I replied.
And thanks to that little snap-ring there was no further trouble.

Clothing List by Temperature

Always: helmet, sunglasses
Items not worn should be taken

105F
white kerchief on head and neck, soaked with water
white jersey, long sleeve
ventilated gloves if desired
shorts
socks and most ventilated shoes

85-100F
SS jersey
ventilated gloves if desired
shorts
socks and shoes

70-85F
SS jersey
jacket if cloudy or altitude
gloves if desired
shorts
socks and shoes

55-70F
gloves
ear band
LS jersey
convertible jacket
shorts
leg warmers
wool socks and shoes

40-55F
insulated long-finger gloves
ear band
SS jersey
LS jersey
jacket
shorts
pants
wool socks and winter shoes

25-40F
winter gloves
ear band
LS jersey x2
jacket
shorts
pants
wool socks and winter boots

10-25F
glove liners
winter gloves
wool hat or balaclava
face protector
undershirt
LS jersey x2
jacket
winter tights
wool socks and winter boots

-10-10F
glove liners
winter gloves
overmits
wool hat or balaclava
face protector
SS jersey
LS jersey x2
jacket
winter tights
pants
wool socks, plastic bags and winter boots

-15
add ski goggles
Mukluks and insulated pants
Jagermeister

-30
are you out of your mind?

Ode

I complain some, I guess, but there's not another job I'd rather have. The finest people frequent my bicycle shop, brothers and sisters all, a list by no means complete:

C, who brings me cookies every Christmas.
D., who knows that cycling is beautiful.
D., who helps the unfortunate.
C., who lives to ride.
H., who rides to live.
B., who is sharper than you think.
S., who is always right.
P., who keeps me in home-made jam.
D., who has turned sadness into hope.
H., who pushes through adversity.
P., who has never seen a storm he didn't like.
T., who understands.
P., who rides anyway.
E., who can't stop.
T., who always keeps me late.
X, who buys anyway.
S., who always has a good story and a laugh.
F., who crashes too much but keeps on riding.
X., who won't stop despite the surgery.
D., who respectfully disagrees.
X., who teases me.
R., who is too old to ride but to hell with it.
J., who is patient, demanding, and appreciative.
X., who prays for me.
Y., who also prays for me.
T., whose enthusiasm is boundless.
E., who got right back up again.
G., the old coot.
R., the champion
B., who likes my car.
D., who wants my bike.
S., who loves French bicycles.
S., who has more bicycles than he can count.

And some only in memory:

H., killed by an enraged driver.
X., killed by a drunk driver.
J., killed by a texting driver.
J., heart failure while riding.
T., killed in a collision with another cyclist.
X., aneurism while riding.
M., surrendered to chronic depression.

The athlete must love his bicycle. -C.O.N.I.
Love one another. -J.
Rage, rage, against the dying of the light. -D.T.

Another Crazy

Hello, how can I help you out?

Hi. I think I want to buy a bicycle to ride around...I want to test-ride that bicycle (road bike) and ooh, look at that one, I want to test-ride that one (too big), and that one (fixed-gear), and that one too (comfort bike). And I like that color (white), I want to test-ride that one (town bike, too small).

What do you think you'll want to use the bicycle for?

-blank stare-

Do you have a bicycle now?

No. Why do you think I'm here?

Well, there are different bicycles for different uses, for example, a road bike like this is for long or fast rides primarily on pavement, mountain bikes are for off-road use, and comfort bikes like this one for short rides around town and are also a good choice for people new to cycling. And they all come in different sizes; I fit all my customers to the proper size for comfort and performance. I'd like to start by showing you a bicycle that is the right size, and most importantly of the type that might meet your needs.

Well, I just want to test-ride a bunch of bicycles, to see if I like them.

OK, what bicycle would you like to try?

All of them.

-silence.-

Uh, well, where will you be riding your bicycle?

-blank stare- (aroundyoustupidmanhaventyoubeenlistening?)

Do you think you'll want to just ride around the block, or to the market, or perhaps commute? Triathlons? Will you be riding with other people? Ideally, you should have similar bicycles for riding together. Would you like to test-ride around the parking lot or go on a longer ride on the Platte River Trail?

I just want to see if I like riding a bicycle. (imheretowasteasmuchofyourtimeaspossible)

Here, how about if we start you out on one of these, it's a pretty versatile machine, good quality and easy to use...let me get one ready in your size.

I don't like that one.

What don't you like about it?

What's your problem? I just want to test ride a bunch of bikes.

(what's going on here?)

I'd rather not waste your time with test rides on bikes that aren't the right size or type-if you could give me a little guidance, I'll try to move you toward a bicycle that you can like.

-incredulous stare-

-pregnant pause- (I'm looking at her, waiting for some sort of coherent information. Something? Anything? What now? Hello?)

All I want to do is test-ride a bunch of bikes, and I don't know what your problem is but I don't think that this is going anywhere and I just don't know why I can't just ride some bikes I haven't ever been treated like this ever I just can't believe you won't let me ride some bikes I just wanted to test-ride some bikes I'm never coming here again I have to go now I don't think I can buy a bike here I (sob)....

I think she's crying. What the?

And then she turns away and leaves.

And I'm dumbfounded. There's a factory rep (who will remain nameless) who has witnessed the whole thing, and he asks, "What was THAT?"

I don't know. I don't think she's herself today.

And a minute later, she runs down my sidewalk, pushes open the door and yells, "You're an AsshxLE, FxxK you, I hope you DIE you ASSHxLE!, etc. etc." And then she's gone again.

This has been a couple of years back. I seem to get one of these people every season, or maybe two in three years, for the whole time I've been working in a bicycle shop. Seen it happen to other salespeople, too. Boy, I could tell you some stories...I don't know just what to do about it, maybe nothing can be done. Study sales technique? Take a counseling class? Talk less? Listen more? Is it possible to be more understanding with incomprehensible people? I don't think I'm a scary or rude person, or insensitive necessarily, or a bad salesman, and I definitely don't call people names or swear at them. I'm just trying to help...where do these poor people come from? Do I need them as customers? Can I help them at all? Is it worth the effort?

The rep and I look at each other, and neither of us knows what to say. What can you say? Maybe I should have let her test ride a bunch of bikes.

Suicide Bike

A machine recently posted on Craigslist:



vintage raliegh 54cm frame and fork 52:15 gear ratio fixed with wienmann dp18 deep v 700 wheels, no brakes the hub is threaded on both sides for freewheel

No brakes. No toe straps. Gear too big to control. Cog that spins off when I stop pedaling. Gotta get me one.

Smooth rolling

Two more surprising traffic occurrences today: driver A, we shall call him, yielded to my right of way and waved as I went by, and Driver B didn't cut me off.

Hmm...

Waiting at a stoplight, sitting perfectly comfortable on my top tube, fat and cable-less so it doesn't pinch my loin, no saddle poke, no silly wobble. Looking down my line, ready to take my lane. At ease, but ready. Look out the corner of my eye at the traffic light. Green? Yellow? Flashing ped? Don't turn your head, they'll think you are signaling. Hello? Should I use my "go straight" signal now? Anybody in there? The attentive ones judge me. Staring. Geek. Nice paint. Will he go straight? Fast? Can I beat him through the intersection if I stick my foot in it? Will he kick my car? Duh?

My shifters are finally working right, which, they being a fickle mix of Campyshram Noplastic, is a kind of predicted surprise, a light snow is on everything above road level, dry and clear, with no wind or heat or cold or rain or dark, all in perfect mid-season grey neutrality. Still. Quiet. Nature could care less, and lets me slide right on bye. Finally.

For now.