My string of bad luck continues, but at least I wasn’t in a
race this time. After driving all the
way down to Augusta, GA
for the FATS trip on Saturday, I thought
it would be a good day. About thirty
minutes into the first loop though, it turned to shit. I told you yesterday that I had to stop to
tighten my left crank arm, and everything seemed fine. After a little more riding though, I noticed
that it came loose again. I busted out my trusty tool to tighten it
again, and just as I was gently getting the bolt snug, I heard a crack.
I broke the head off the bolt, and I was pretty much screwed
at that point. There was no way the
crank arm would stay on after that.
Rather than walk out though, I decided that I would put it
back on there, and try my best to keep it on there by pressing my foot against
the bottom bracket when I rode downhill.
I wouldn’t be able to climb very well, but at least I wouldn’t have to
walk out. It worked okay at first, but
Tom and Lunchbox had to stop every so often to let me catch up. At one point I told then to keep going and
wait for me at the end of the loop. They
took off while I limped my bike along the trail.
I walked my bike up the climbs for the most part, but I stayed
on for the downhills. My luck didn’t
last forever though, because at one point my crank arm fell of while I was
navigating a rooty and twisty descent.
My right crank arm immediately dropped downward, and my pedal struck a
root. It sent me over the bars, and I
landed on my (already hurt a few days ago) elbow. As I writhed on the ground for a bit in pain,
I thought about how dumb that shit was.
I got back on my bike and I eventually made it out of there.
My next challenge would be to get my bike fixed.
Since we drove all the way down there and the ride had just
started, I wanted to get back out there to get some miles in. I took off for a local shop, leaving Lunchbox
and Tom to ride without me. I didn’t see
the need for them to give up their ride time for me, and I figured I’d be back
soon anyway. I took off with my broken
bike, heading to the closest shop.
I didn’t wait for him to answer the phone before I started
Me: “Fuck you Lance,
Me: “Lance, it’s me
Vincent. I’m in big fucking trouble,
man. I’m coming to your house.”
Mr. Shepherd: “Whoa.
Whoa. Hold your horses, man. What’s the problem?”
Me: “I’ve got this
chick, she’s fuckin’ O.D.in’ on me.”
Mr. Shepherd: “Well,
don’t bring her here! I’m not even
fuckin’ joking with you, man! Do not be
bringing some fucked-up pooh-bah to my house.”
Mr. Shepherd: “She’s
Me. “She’s fuckin’
dying on me, man!”
Mr. Shepherd: “Okay,
then you bite the bullet, take her to a hospital and call a lawyer.”
Mr. Shepherd: “This
is not my fuckin’ problem, man! You
fucked her up, you deal with this!”
Okay, that was obviously a Pulp Fiction reference
and not what really happened. I just called to give him shit about passing
on his bad juju to me from our last trip.
He did help me remember the name of the bike shop we went to when he was
here, and I made it there with no issues.
Long story short, they got me back on the bike pronto, and I hauled ass
back to the trail to see if I could finish my ride.
I got back to the parking lot just as the boys were
finishing up their ride. Lunchbox was
worn out (and even had a small bout with leg cramps), but Tom volunteered to go
out there again with me. I had to get in
some more riding, and I was glad to have the company. We hit the trail at a breakneck pace,
determined to finish up before the ladies did.
We succeeded, which meant that I didn’t waste my time driving down
We had fun (despite another mechanical issue), and I’m very
thankful I got back on the trail. I’ll
talk about my bike shop experience soon.
In the meantime, I have some work to do.
I ran my GoPro out there again, so I have to see if any of the video is
Even if it isn’t, I’ll probably still put something together
for the blog.
Good or bad, you’ll have to watch it.