A while back, I decided that if this widebody were to get back into shape, it would need to do so on a bicycle. So I bought one. My 30+ pound weight loss can be largely attributed to that decision, and the subsequent decision to get a decent stationary bike off Craigslist.
That bike has treated me well. Until now.
Last week Sandy and I decided to go on a bike ride. I would pull Jack in a trailer to the park where he and Sandy would play while I went on a more serious ride.
Thus began what I hope will be the worst bike ride of my life.
Now, over the winter my back tire had gone flat and needed a patch, so I removed the wheel and patched the tire. I replaced the tire with little difficulty, but after a few short rides, realized that the attachment that allowed me to connect Jack's trailer had made it difficult for me to fully tighten the bolt resulting in a loose back tire. Initially this meant that it slowly moved around to the point where... time out, I am watching a cardinal abuse some brown bird in my back yard. That was awesome... to the point where the tire would start to rub a little. This was quickly remedied by a swift kick to return the tire to its proper home. I soon found out that the problem was more profound than I had originally diagnosed.
After I left Sandy, Jack, and the trailer at the park in town, I rode the 3 blocks to get to the edge of town (doesn't matter what direction, its pretty much 3 blocks to any edge of town) and started my ride in earnest. I soon found my intermittent tire rubbing issue was becoming more frequent and my ride being made still more difficult by the stiff winds blowing directly in my face. Each time my tire slipped I had to stop, kick it, remount my bike, and make the increasingly difficult startup against the wind.
Gratefully, I was soon able to make a turn so that the full wind was no longer in my face. This didn't completely alleviate the problem as my tire was still slipping out of place every 8 seconds or so. I tried in vain to tighten the nut by hand and even considered waving down passing vehicles to ask for tools. A time came when the first kicked moved the tire away from rubbing and the second brought it back. After a fairly short distance, I made the easy decision to cut my ride short and head home, hoping to find relief in the strong winds that would soon be at my back.
Relief came quickly.
I am still not totally convinced that I didn't lift off at one point. I think I was passing cars, but it was all a blur.
Relieve passed quickly.
I came back into town as as I geared back down from the highest possible gear, there was complete system failure. The tire slipped hopelessly out of place, rubbing so much that it brought my bike and I to a complete stop. I got off the bike to kick it and after I had presumably fixed the problem, I put my foot on the pedal to lift myself back onto the bike and finish my ride.
The pedal didn't move.
I did.
I went down in what I am sure was a hilarious blaze of glory.
Fortunately, and quite appropriately, this all went down next to the cemetery.
My back tire had come off completely and I had to spend about five minutes fixing it just to the point where I could walk it about a half-mile back to my house so I could get the proper tools to fix it completely and go pick up Sandy, Jack, and the trailer back at the park.
Sandy suggested the debacle needed to be recorded in proper blog form, and as I thought about the whole mess it started to remind me of something else entirely.
At times I have found myself in a mess that is entirely out of my control. I simply have the ability to fix the problem, but the tools I need are not at hand. I am not allowed to do what it takes to really make the whole thing functional. I end up applying a crude quick fix and hop back on, making the best of the ride that I can, making an effort to avoid riding directly into the wind and looking forward to the time when the wind is at my back and momentum can, ever so briefly, counteract the effects of the underlying problem.
Occasionally the whole thing falls apart, and the best I can do is repair it as best I can and walk it home. Sometimes I feel like I am walking alongside and supporting a broken bicycle, biding my time until the tools are present to apply a real and lasting repair. Sometimes I think that maybe I am the bike.
That reminds me of a joke Phil Schomer used to tell...
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