Yeah...I haven't posted anything in a week...and here's the really long version of why. (And my attempt use the word "multiple" as much as possible without it becoming too very annoying.)
I used to be on my mountain bike every day. I remember hitting trails in Missouri, multiple times weekly - riding in the rain, thunderstorms, and that summer humidity that felt like you were riding in a giant mouth. I raced, finished high, finished low, finished like a champ and finished like I had never ridden a bike before.
In the fall of 1997, I bought what amounted to my dream mountain bike frame. We've all got that car, motorcycle, etc. that we dream of owning. For me, I'm a Chevy Corvette guy. I love Corvette racing, and I think I had 8 or 9 multiple-orgasmic experiences in the first 45 minutes of the Petit LeMans I attended in 2005. That solidified my Heartbeat of America. (There's something I bet ya didn't know about me...and maybe didn't want to.) In regards to motos: Harley Davidson Dyna Wide Glide. So, all this explains why I own a Subaru Forester and Suzuki Marauder...and the Subie I think is about to be traded for a Toyota Tacoma 4DR. Digressing...
My dream frame was the AMERICAN made Barracuda (none of that Chinese crap that was made after the company sold and then went belly up) Dos Equis XX Team Racing Frame. (Yes, as in, "When I drink beer...I drink Dos Equis..." sponsored, Barracuda Team Racing frame.)
It's amazing that equipment has a lot to do with a ride...as my forever-good-friend Josh Jones helped me build that beast from frame up after classes one day in 10/97. On my first ride, I rode faster, longer and stronger than I ever had before...
In the summer of '99, I had a choice of my first professional acting gig, and I chose a theatre in Durango, CO. Partly because Durango is a mountain biker's paradise...and partly because...well, I believed Durango was/is to play a serious role in my professional destiny. (I still do...did...that's another blog) I had vacationed there before, and the thought of living there for multiple months just seemed too good to be true. I got my taste for the town and then took an interest in doing some racing in Mountain Bike Country. I actually fared pretty darn well. I didn't have the time to train like I would have liked, but I was certainly a competitor in the circuit known as the Four Corners Cup. Unfortunately, I learned of all this deliciousness too late, and my experience was limited...where were you high speed Internet back then, with your information at the snap of a finger?
Long story longer, the frame has undergone many evolutions...stuff has come off of it, been put onto it...it's had multiple front forks, multiple sets of pedals...I'm hard on those suckers...derailleurs...handle bars, grips, tires, tires, tires, a couple saddles (that's the seat), brakes and so many tubes that I could've built the world's largest tribute to the Michelin Man.
The bike has been to Missouri, Arkansas, Colorado, Florida, Arizona, New Mexico, New York and now California. I have a sexy scar on my right wrist from a chain ring plunging into my skin...and as a matter of fact, many of the scars I have are in some way associated with this beautiful Barracuda.
About a year ago, Kristi got a new bike for her birthday, and I decided to once again overhual mine about 2 months later. I had been collecting new parts for upgrading, yet ran out of money on my way to the finish line. Groceries vs. Bike...if it were just me, it'd be Smack Ramen Noodles and water for multiple weeks to grab the gear, but...
I finally decided to salvage what I could salvage, clean it as if Martha Stewart were peering over my shoulder, and get it back on with the new stuff that I do have. This cleaning started maybe 6 weeks ago...yeah...pretty pathetic, I know, but what was the point of doing it this summer when my leg was busted?
Last week, I bought the one remaining item I needed (a new rear derailleur), and came home to put the finishing touches on a very sweet looking ride. (Nothing like accenting a red, white, blue and yellow-gold frame with a lime green fork.) As I was adjusting the rear derailleur, I had forgotten that I already stretched the new cables with an old derailleur that I tried to salvage...I'm stretching away on cables that don't really have any stretch left to give, coupled with the fact that the new derailleur wasn't properly aligned - that's when I felt all the tension in my shifter die as I was pressing hard with my thumb.
"Please tell me the cable popped..." I thought to myself.
I looked. Nope.
"Well, maybe it came loose at the derailleur...?"
I looked. Nope.
I busted my shifter pod. For the past week, I've been in one bidding war after another on Ebay, trying to find a vintage set of high-quality shifters like I had on this ride. I keep getting hammered by chick/female bidders! What's up with that? Don't they realize that I'm just a nice guy who wants to get back on his bike, and add some scars to his temporary earth flesh? Ebay is brutal, I tell ya.
My only other option is to grab a $19.99 Shimano Alivio shifter, and that would be like taking a shifter knob out of a Toyota Corrolla and putting it into a BMW...ain't gonna happen, ladies! So please, just let me win one of these auctions! Could I get some love from the sistas? Could you all do that mojo intuition stuff you do where you give each other the coldeye* from miles away?
That be that.
*A combination of the Cold Shoulder and Evil Eye.
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2 comments:
I'm extremely blessed because I own my dram car... unfortunately it's in my parents driveway not running. I had dreams of working on it all summer so I could cruise the town in it, but it didn't happen. Maybe next summer I'll get to cruise around in the 'Stang.
What year is it?
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