. . . I really don't want to say.
Reality ruled against me, however, when the rear inner tube turned out to be shot.
Second best action: take the poor bike in for a tune-up.
At the shop, the technician monkeyed with the left shifter, looking a little worried. The grease had hardened. "But," he said cheerfully, "we'll blow on it, stick some oil in there—I'm sure we can get it working fine."
|I'm sure I've posted this photo before,|
because I like it. But it fits here!
So I'm happy to take my bike to a shop where the technicians know what they're doing, do it all the time, know immediately when something isn't right, and know how to fix it.
I'll get the bike back Friday afternoon. Hopefully the weather will hold, and I can go out for a late-afternoon ride. And enjoy the smooth gears, the fast wheels, the wind rushing past.
When the spirits are low, when the day appears dark, when work becomes monotonous, when hope hardly seems worth having, just mount a bicycle and go out for a spin down the road, without thought on anything but the ride you are taking.
—Sir Arthur Conan Doyle