After ten days home, twas time to make someone do the nasty job of resurrecting my poor touring bike from the near-dead.
I’d put away most of my exploded luggage
I re-learned how to make a fire in the Jotul. The Clean Way.
I”d deferred maintenance long enough. But I don’t LIKE working on bikes.
Geoff H. was going to go out to the Best Shop In The County (and best-hidden!), aka Black Mountain Cycles, so he let me and pieces-of-Bruiser come along.
My 1995 Breezer Lightening used to go by the name of “Steal This Bike”, since it was mass produced, and not my size.
(Spoiled Woman Alert!)
Too-long top tube, icky seat angle, wrong stem, bars, etc.. everything in need of mollification. All the tweaks Charlie performed (read “investment of time”) make “Steal” impossible to let go of. Not even the crushing, ripping damage inflicted by that pickup truck (the one I left my bike lying in front of, out of view) three years ago was able to kill ol’ STB.
Now I call it Bruiser. Bruiser sallied forth onto delightfully technical trails of New Zealand with a shrug and a rattle, but never a complaint. Em (Power Girl) Miazga doted Bruiser’s “prowess” when we did Coppermine ride outside of Nelson, a body-slammer of a descent.