Ride Hard, Take Chances.

Warning: specific bicycling content ahead. I try, really I try, not to bore you all with this, most of the time. Feel free to come back another day if you must. I will understand. I mean, I won't at all understand, because who doesn't love to talk about bikes and all their obscure bits and their beloved eccentricities?

Those of you who know me well know that the bicycle I caused to be custom built for me earlier this year has become like one of my limbs, and therefore can well imagine the sort of anxiety that comes over me when there's something amiss with it. I haven't been writing about my latest difficulty, perhaps because it's just too painful to be set down on a page, but there have been a series of troublesome noises coming from the general vicinity of the bottom bracket, and I've spent the last couple of weeks trying to diagnose it.

Futzing with one thing and then another, riding with my head down to the side to try and hear just where that nasty croak and click is coming from. First I discovered that I'd thrown a pedal dustcap at one point, months ago, and then when the bike had been out in several thunderstorms (sorry bike!), all manner of muck had gotten inside the pedal and - well - now it creaks.

The mechanic said, "You can spray some lube in there, but it's probably best to just get new pedals."

Yeah. No. Those pedals are French threaded (read: not so easy to find), vintage, and the bike shop owner pulled them off his personal 1950s track bike for me. Yes, I could probably find another pair of French threaded pedals after a month of trolling the used parts market, but I feel somewhat responsible for these pedals. They are special, and I have fallen down in my care of them.

So I am now reading about pedal overhauls. I could, in theory, take them completely apart, replace the bearings, grease the inside bits, repack the bearings in fresh grease, and put them all back together again.

But the thing is, that's not the only thing making noise down there. The messed up pedal is on the left. Half the baaaaad noise is on the right.

I had the shop tighten the chain (which I'd apparently put on too loosely after I'd had to change the third tire in two days - the tube on the rear exploded, with a sound like gunfire, in my ear). Had to get a new pump. Old one was busted, and the gauge stopped working without telling me it had stopped working, and so I pumped about two hundred lbs. of air into it, and then, BOOM. Where was I? Oh yes, chain was loose. That might be the source of the noise, said the shop owner. You could also upgrade the bottom bracket. When we put that cheaper BB on it, we didn't realize you were going to be riding it as much as you are. But try this first. Maybe ride it for a season, then upgrade.

K. I had him switch me over to the smaller rear cog (higher gear - me big strong warrior type now) while I was at it. Rode home. Creak, crack, click. Same damn problem.

I get to my friend's house and almost start crying. Almost. Big strong warrior type, remember?

I call Boywich. "Waaaagh!!! My drivetrain sounds like it's going to explode. Do I need a new BB?"

"What does it sound like?"

"Like somebody's yanking it with a racheting wrench."

"Clicks?"

"Yeah. Creaks and croaks and clicks."

"Well, remember, I had that BB die within a few months of buying that mountain bike... So it is possible to kill a cheap BB in a matter of months."

"Yeah? Okay." Shop is on speed dial. Yes, I can bring it in any time tomorrow. Yes, they have some good BBs in stock. Don't worry.

Boywich texts me. "You can get a Phil Wood BB for only about $120." (note: Phil Wood = top-of-line indestructible BB)

Then new-date boy calls. "You know you just want an excuse to buy really nice components. You can't fool me."

Sigh.