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Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Confessions of a Bike Rider

I want to get something off of my chest. I ride bikes. But thats not the real confession. I ride bikes, but I'm not a bike mechanic.

I am conflating two bikes into one, presently. Preparing for my epic bike tour back home to Covington, WA. In the process of conflation, I removed my bike stand from one bike, and began to attach it to its destined new bike. I situated it in the right place, and tightened the bolt. I tightened it some more, and some more, and some more; right before the climax I remembered a similar moment, about a year a go, when I over tightened my brakes and stripped the bolt. Right at that moment, the top of my kickstand shattered and snapped. Darn. Pretty weak metal, no? Now I had a broken kickstand.

But thats not all. I managed to bricolier (bricolage) a spacer for the now broken kickstand and attempted to salvage its use. When all was said and nearly done, the kickstand remained a mite too long, so attempted to bend it out farther. No luck. Shortly after applying force, the kickstand snapped into two. Now I held a twice broken kickstand. Most impressive. At this point, I'd like for you, the reader, to realize the intensity of the word "snap" in this instance. This was not your ordinary "snap". This was the kind of life threatening "SNAP" that makes you want to "hide your wife and hide your kids", to look around to make sure nobody can see you because you know they heard you. 

That being said, I don't think anybody heard me, so I confessed to my roommate and his lady inside. They understood.

I am George Simons. I ride bikes, and I break my kickstands not once, but twice in the same night.

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