Shit hits the fanbelt

Originally, the Cyclonauts Road Race at Monson, held this past Saturday, was planned as an "A" event for me. That started to change a few weeks ago when my knee began acting up. Still though, things were looking pretty good as the weekend drew near, and with a full compliment of BOB teammates already entered, I looked forward to going. Friday I began my preparations by going out to open up with a ride over at Moose Hill, including some nice jumps on both hills and the flats. I was reasonably pleased with the way my legs responded, but reasonably annoyed by all the noise my bike was making.

When I got home, I first checked the chain stretch and sure enough, the chain is beyond toast. It's been a while. I did not remember ever buying a 10 speed chain, but rummaging through the parts bins yielded a nice new Ultegra. I pulled off the crank (huh-huh) to do the bottom bracket as well, but close inspection revealed that the one that was in there did not take the standard spline tool. In fact, this was not even an FSA as first thought, but instead an early generation ISIS by Truvativ, held in place by two small lockrings with eight notches. Turning the spindle by hand revealed that this POS was surely history, but despite owning at least ten different bottom bracket and lockring tools, none of them fit this thing. After briefly considering pulling a CTodd and attempting to use channel locks, I came to my senses and decided to just put the cranks back on and live with the creak until I can scare up the correct tool.

By now it was getting dark and I took a break to go and gas up the Geo, as the planned 5 am departure would mean every minute counts in the morning. After checking the gas and filling the oil, I took an additional moment to have a look at my alternator belt, which has only been shrieking for the entire two years I've owned the car. Well, the picture is worth a thousand words. I headed over to the parts store and bought some new belts, but of course by now it was dark. More consideration. I could just take the "car stuff" toolbox and belts with me, and pray that we made it to Monson and back. The thought of struggling to reach all the bolts in the cramped Geo underhood while roasting in the sun while parked in the Mass Turnpike breakdown lane did not seem too appealing. We discussed trying to fit everything into the Insight, but that would mean making the trip with the seat pushed all the way forward, perfect if you're four-eleven, but not so good if you're a foot taller than that.

Let's review: It's 10 pm, the race is two hours away and starts at 8, I have a creaky and suspect knee, my bike's in pieces, we have an untrustworthy transport vehicle, and we're not pre-registered. The choice was obvious:



Thank for reading.