Friday, June 04, 2010

The Broken Bike

I got a phone call at 6:30 this morning from someone who didn't know I was on Hawaii time. Swell. Around 7:00 I wandered out to the hotel lobby to get my bike out of storage and ran into the gang heading out for their early morning swim. Was not even tempted to join them.

I brought my bike back to my room and started reassembling it. But for some reason I just  get the war wheel back on. I am not a good mechanic at all, but I can still usually put a wheel on a bike. After 45 minutes of struggling with my bike, my hands were covered in grease, my chain was in knots and my wheel was still sitting on the floor. I was getting nervous and frustrated- what if I get a flat during the race? Am I going to be stuck on the side of the road for an hour struggling with my bike?

I gave up and brought my bike into the shop they have set up right in the hotel. They took a quick look at it and told me I had a broken dérailleur. That made me feel a little bit better, because it meant that the problem was with my bike and not my mechanical skills. They told me they thought they could get a replacement later in the afternoon. I was a little worried about how much this was going to cost me, but there was nothing I could to.

I went back a few hours later and they had good news for me: turns out my dérailleur was not broken, just out of whack somehow and they fixed it for me. Twenty-one dollars. Fantastic. But the big question remained, what exactly was wrong with my bike in the first place? I am absolutely positive it was some sort of human error on my part. I may have twisted something while packing up my bike or, more likely, I banged the dérailleur while trying to put on the wheel. Either way, my bike seems to be OK now. 


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