The Fatal Flaw

There is nothing more sad than a favorite toy that can not be fixed.  It has a fatal flaw that has finally come undone and can not be repaired.  It's broken.  And yet you love it so much that you can't get yourself to part with it.

Hanging from the rafters of my barn is just such an old broken friend - the 3 speed bike I rode in graduate school and used as a mountain bike when I first moved to Kodiak (click here for older post).

There is really nothing 'wrong' with the bike. All the tires are good, no rust, brakes work, and gear hub is fine. She looks great. It's just that on the back hub one of the nuts is slightly stripped and occasionally slips on the bolt that keeps tension on the rear wheel.  It is an old-fashioned British bolt size of some sort that is no longer made - it can not be replaced or fixed (at least on Kodiak).

Before I realized it had a faulty nut I got the bike totally repaired and it was such a sweet ride. For a little while it felt like old times.  Riding upright with the fenders over the tires and the big wide handle bars.  Nothing like the hunched over ride of a modern mountain bike.

And then suddenly the wheel slipped and the chain fell off.  I got my hands all greasy putting the chain back on and re tensioning the wheel, but it kept on happening again, and again. It had a fatal flaw. It was broken.

And so up into the rafters of my barn it went.  If you look up there you can see it hanging amongst all my packs and hunting and skiing paraphernalia.  I love that bike and just can't part with it.

No new bike can ever replace it either.  I'll never again own a bike that while in Graduate School I rode to classes on the streets of Madison.  I took that bike to bars and rode home via the railroad tracks to avoid scrutiny from the police (they enforced 'BWI' in Madison).  I once even rode it wearing a Halloween costume on my way to a party.  That was a memorable occasion because the Badgers had finally beaten the Wolverines after years of football frustration, and there was rioting in the streets (click here for story); and there I was riding bolt upright in a Halloween costume with everyone else rioting and also wearing costumes - a very bizarre moment.  I also remember riding the bike to Saltery Cove to go salmon fishing when I first moved to Kodiak.  I'd carry ice in my waders and then carry the freshly caught fish in the waders packed with the ice for the ride home.

That bike and I have history.  Yet she is broken and can not be repaired. Her fatal flaw has let us down.  I doubt I'll ever ride her again.

Patrick

My bike in I in happier times