Big Wheels Keep on Turnin’

This weekend was my first opportunity to ride The Big O on an actual trail. Even though my new 29er was “finished” Thursday evening, I still had to do a few minor adjustments before I took it out for a real ride. I spent a little time Saturday afternoon making sure the gears shifted properly, and also adjusting the headset and brakes. I took it for a quick spin around the neighborhood, and I knew it was good to go. The next stop? Sherman Branch. This big bike looked a little intimidating to me, but it also looked like it might be fun.



Little Miss Sunshine and Lunchbox also wanted to go for a ride, so I knew this would be a good way to test it. Since this would be the first time that I ever road on a 29er, I didn’t want to have the temptation of going “race speed.” The fam wouldn’t be down for trying to achieve their personal best lap time out there, and I knew it would give me a chance to get a good feel for my new big wheels.


What a ridiculous-looking contrast between us and our bikes.


We arrived at the trailhead on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, and the parking lot was pretty full (as usual.) We got our shit together and headed out, with me leading the way. I tried to keep a slow, yet decent pace, and both LMS and LB kept up nicely. Even though I expected a big learning curve for the bigger-wheeled bike, I was pleasantly surprised. I flew down the trail, and it was easy to keep my speed. The roots, jumps, and other obstacles were no match for the 29 inch wheel, and I had plenty of momentum on the climbs. The biggest drawback to riding a 29er (or so I’ve heard) was the difficulty in accelerating, but even that was a non-issue.




The bigger wheels, combined with my weight, turned out to be a blessing for going downhill. I had plenty of speed, and it was effortless. I never had any issues maneuvering the bike either, and I felt just as nimble as I did when I rode 26 inch wheel bikes. I think I might be in love.


The Diamondback Overdrive (or The Big O as it is now known to me) was like riding in a dream. The frame was stiff and responsive, and the size fit me perfectly. I built it up better than it comes from the factory, and I’m glad I did. The XT shifters and front and rear derailleurs handled the shifting perfectly, and the LX crankset gave me plenty of force to power through the climbs. The big wheel gave me plenty of clearance over the many obstacles at Sherman Branch too. I had no problems taking the turns at high speed, and I actually felt like I was riding faster with less effort than before. While I am obviously biased towards Diamondback Bicycles (and now the Overdrive in particular), I’m sure that this might be the case with all 29er bikes. I did have a small braking issue, which was quickly remedied by some trailside repair.



Honestly, I can’t believe I didn’t try this sooner. Even though I always saw smaller guys (and girls) riding these big-wheeled machines, I have been told that someone as tall as I am should be on a 29er anyway. I couldn’t agree more. I think I may have found my new race bike. Don’t worry Goose, I’ll still ride you for all the gnarly stuff. I won’t be giving up the full squish at all, but it does look like it will be officially retired from racing.


What about the rest of the family on our ride? Well, they had a great time too. We completed the whole loop, and everyone had a blast.





What a great way to spend a Sunday. I even finished the day with a frosty beverage (or two or three.)

New Bikes, New Builds, and Awesome Love

Since I’ve been spending the last few days horribly recapping the 6 Hours of Warrior Creek, I didn’t get a chance to talk about the shopping trip that Little Miss Sunshine and I took da udda day. She’s been talking for a while now about getting a road bike, and I’ve been unable to find anything in her size on the cheap. I had considered building one up for her, but I was having a hard time finding an extra small frame anywhere.

After fishing in The Bay, looking on The List of Craig, searching my local Internets forums, and even asking around, I was stumped. We finally decided to go visit a local shop to see if they had anything.


After a short drive over to the University area in NE Charlotte, we ended up at Bike Line. We went there because my usual shop, Middle Ring Cycles, is closed for the week. She needed some new shoes anyway, so a shop close to the house was very convenient. Anyway, it didn’t take long for her to find one she liked. They had a nice size 47 Trek 1.2, and she immediately fell in love with it. Shane (the HMFIC over at Bike Line) came over and asked if we needed any help. Little Miss Sunshine asked if she could take it for a spin. A few minutes later she was tear-assing through the parking lot on it. She rode around a bit, and told him she liked it. We talked it over for a few minutes, and she decided that we would add one more bike to our stable. What the hell, right?


When we walked out of the shop with the new bike, Little Miss Sunshine was as happy as a pig in shit, and it was nice to see. While she will still ride the mountain bike, she will probably enjoy the road just as much. I’d like to give a huge thank you to Shane and the rest of the crew at Bike Line for all of their help (and for putting up with us.) It’s a pretty nice shop with a great selection, and the staff is very friendly and helpful. Check them out if you’re in Charlotte.
Here is the new addition to our familiy:



There is yet another new bike addition here at B-43, and it’s time to let the cat out of the bag. Ever since I announced that I was giving big wheels a try, I’ve been busy scrounging up parts and trying to put something together. The last piece of the puzzle came yesterday via the The Big Brown Truck, so I got busy in the shop. I’ve had this thing pretty much built for the last two weeks or so, but I was still lacking a wheelset. Well, since that’s what was delivered to the B-43 Worldwide Headquarters last night, I was ready to complete the build.



The Big O is ready to hit up a trail near you (if you live near me, that is.) I didn’t get to do much driveway testing last night, but I think I might like this thing. It is a huge bike, with it’s 22 inch frame and all. I guess I don’t have to worry about Little Miss Sunshine taking it out for a spin, do I? I didn’t spend a ton of money on this “project”, but I put some decent parts on it. Easton EA50 Bars, stem, and handlebars, RockShox Tora Solo Air fork, Shimano XT shifters, cassette, front and rear derailleurs, WTB seat and rims, Hayes Sole hydraulic disc brakes, Lizard Skins lock on grips, and Kenda Nevegal tires. Not too bad for a “budget build” 29er I guess, especially since it has better crap on it that the original specs. Don’t believe me? Well then, check out the 2008 Diamondback Overdrive specs.


I’ve jumped into the world of 29ers without breaking the bank, and I did it better and cheaper than I thought I could. I’m not knocking Diamondback bicycles in any way, since I obviously have a lot of love for them. Everyone ends up putting better parts on their bikes (no matter which brand it is), so I just did it during the build. Those guys out there in Washington state at the Diamondback HQ have put together a nice entry-level 29er, but I needed a little more. I’m sure they understand. Here is an ad for the Overdrive just in case:




Speaking of the lovely state of Washington, I got a little more love from the good people out at Backcountry Research. No, it wasn’t more Awesome Straps (I have plenty right now), but they did put my pathetic reviews on their website. The link for it is on their front page under the instructional video, but I’ll save you the trouble of looking for it and just tell you to click the image below.



If you’ve been here a while, you’ve read my reviews. However, the millions of people who are out there considering purchasing their first Awesome Strap can use my reviews (plus Dicky’s and another guy I don’t know) to help them make up their minds. Just stay away from the sharks and bulls, please. Animals are our friends. See y’all Monday.

Rehashing The Recap (With Extra Competitiveness)

When I first talked about my 6 Hours of Warrior Creek adventure a few days ago, I mentioned that we had a slight issue when we tried to set up our pit area. When I arrived on the scene, the race volunteers directed me to park in a spot right next to the MadSS, which happened to be in front of another vehicle. As soon as Little Miss Sunshine and I got out of the truck, this guy came over and started crying about how they were gonna set up their tent there. The conversation went something like ths:


Rude Neighbor: “You can’t park there. We were gonna set up our tent in that spot.”

Me: “This is where the guy told me to park, and this is our pit area too.”

RN: “You have to move.”

Me: “I was told by a RACE VOLUNTEER to park here, so I’m staying.”



The guy started getting really antsy, and that was just pissing me off. He came back and started crying about “his” spot again. I was getting visibly upset and ready to tear into this guy. Little Miss Sunshine knew what I might do next, so she walked away. The MadSS had been quiet up until now, but then he stepped in:


MadSS: “Don’t come over here being a jackass.”

Rude Neighbor: “Uh, we came here early to get this spot. Blah blah blah.”

MadSS (visibly upset too): “Look, you don’t have to be a jackass about it.”

Me: “We have to set up our stuff too, and this is where we are setting it up.”

RN: “This is affecting my ability to be competitive. How am I supposed to be competitive when we can’t set up our stuff?”


The guy huffed and puffed and walked away. I actually got a good laugh about this, which kept me from getting really mad at the little prick. The fact that the MadSS kept calling him a jackass also gave me a good chuckle. After we unloaded our stuff, we were trying to figure out how to set up camp. I had planned to move my truck all along, but I wasn’t in a giant hurry (especially since Mr. Competitive was lurking nearby being a jackass.)


About fifteen minutes later, he walked by real quick, and said, “We still have to set up, you know.” At that point I was pissed again. I said, “I know that! Tell me that shit again and see what happens.” He hurried by as he said it, but I know he heard me. Eventually I moved my truck, and they started setting up. I say they, because the other two people in his camp actually set the stuff up, while he sat back and watched. I guess he really wasn’t just being a jackass to us, but to everyone else as well.


He never said another word to me, and he eventually got what was coming to him. No, I didn’t touch him (I wasn’t about to ruin a great event), but I did pass him on the first lap. After the race, Little Miss Sunshine told me that he had a flat tire, and he had a hell of a time changing it. He had his bike torn apart, and it took him forever to get back on the course. So much for being competitive, huh?




Aside from that incident, the race was great. Since I was in a daze for much of it, it actually felt like I rode three laps on three different courses. I remembered some features each time, but a lot of it was unfamiliar. I still had a lot of fun, and I didn’t take myself too seriously. While I do like getting on the podium once in a while, it’s all about having a good time. Since this was my first solo endurance race, I was only competing against myself. My crew of the MadSS, his Mrs., and the Space Cowboy helped make it a great time on the course as well. Even though I’m not much of an endurance racer at this point, it’s good to share the experience with good people. Also, I couldn’t have done any of it without Little Miss Sunshine. Between her support at the pit stops and her photography (Lunchbox is in Florida for the week), I didn’t have to worry about anything except riding my bike for six hours. Out of our small, unprofessional racing group, Mrs. MadSS even got on the podium for the Women’s Solo Single Speed (2nd place.)


Oh by the way, my Awesome Straps held up great the whole time. Thanks again to the folks out there at Backcountry Research for hooking me up. Also I’ll thank Cane Creek Cycling Components for their support. My Cane Creek 110 headset was flawless, and as you saw in the photos, I rolled (slowly) around the trail in my super sweet Cane Creek jersey. Now, go spend your money with the above mentioned companies.


Finally, I’d like to share a video with y’all. My buddy Bart from Southpark Cycles wore his helmet camera for the first lap. The footage is incredible, although I wish it was longer so you could see the whole trail. It gives you a good idea of the roadie start we had to do, plus some of the berms, switchbacks, and other trail goodness we rode for six hours. Big thanks to Bart for putting together another great video.

Enduring The Endurance Race

Well, we left off yesterday with my first lap at the 6 Hours of Warrior Creek, and I felt pretty good. After that initial lap though, I still had four hours and forty minutes to go. At my pit stop, I tried not to hang around too long. When I took off for lap two, I tried to keep a decent pace. This is the point that everything starts to get a little fuzzy. I was still enjoying the trail, but I was starting to get tired already. The adrenaline rush I had throughout the first lap was slowly fading away.


I ate plenty of food and took in lots of fluids, so I figured I would be able to keep a pretty fast pace. I sorta knew what to expect this time, and I was a little more relaxed. I tried not to push too hard, but I still ended up doing it anyway. The trails at Warrior Creek are crazy fun, so it’s hard not to ride it fast. Maybe I was a little too relaxed, starting to get tired, or something, but I was making dumb little mistakes out there as the lap went on. These small mistakes led to some really close calls, especially on some of the steep berms and the bridges. I had to grab a handful of brake on more than one occasion. I never actually crashed though, save for the one time that I just fell over due to lack of momentum. I was climbing a turn behind another rider, and he slipped, causing me to do the same thing. Shit, I was getting into trouble.


About five or six miles into that lap, I felt the leg cramps coming on. It was only a small amount at first, but I knew it would get worse. I drank the rest of the contents in my water bottle, and hoped I would make it out of the trail. At this point I was pretty much racing alone, save for the occasional passer by. I slowed my pace way down to conserve my energy, especially since I was out of water.


Suddenly out of nowhere there appeared a table with a water cooler on it, right on the side of the trail. I had been talking to myself for a little while at this point (I forgot my music-playing device), so I kept up the conversation. I said out loud, “Is this a mirage? No, it can’t be. Who the hell parks a cooler in the middle of a bike trail?” I was really confused, and there was still no sign of any other racers. I decided to stop anyway to see if it was for real. I filled my water bottle and drank it, but I wasn’t convinced. I was probably hallucinating, I figured. Then, another rider pulled up and filled up his bottle too. I guess I hadn’t imagined this lonely trailside oasis after all. I filled my bottle again and got on my way.


Windy, twisty, uphill, downhill, jumpy, rocky, whatever. I really don’t remember the details of the rest of lap two. That is, until I got to the second rock garden again. I could hear the ruckus from the pit area, so I blasted through the Wicked Garden without any regard for my own safety. I had to get back to my pit area with a quickness.


I wasn’t cramping too bad at this point. I wanted to bust out two more laps, and I still had plenty of time. I gorged myself yet again on food, and swallowed more water than a camel heading out for an all night joyride. I also had an ace up my sleeve. I busted out The Stick in a vain attempt to alleviate the inevitable cramping. After a lengthy pit stop, it was time for lap three.


This is where it got weird. As soon as I hit the singletrack, I felt odd. Instead of just trying to get through one more lap, I kept telling myself that I had two to go. I started pedalling faster, but I felt like I was going slower. While there was nothing wrong with my bike, it actually felt as if I was holding down the rear brake and trying to ride. I kept riding, and decided to come up with a plan. During my pit stop, I had stuffed several sandwiches and gels into my pockets. The plan was to eat them at certain mile markers on the trail. My first trail meal would be at mile marker three, I told myself.


After what seem like an hour, I wondered if I had missed seeing a few of the mile markers. I was getting hungry, so I slowed down and looked for the magic number. A few minutes later I saw the marker for mile one. ONE? REALLY? No way, I must have taken a wrong turn or something. At that point, my mind was gone I guess. Seeing that sign just took the wind out of my sails, but I vowed to keep riding. I went ahead and ate one half of a tuna sandwich, and kept going.


The food must have finally caught up with me. After I passed the two mile mark, I felt the call of nature. Not the call of nature that you can do behind a tree either. I started to panic; for fear that I might have a different kind of accident other than the crashing kind. Just like the mystery water cooler before, a magic land of toilets suddenly appeared to me at mile marker three. I ran about fifty feet off of the trail and parked my bike. After a few minutes, I was finally relieved.


There was another problem, however. As I tried to flush, I found that the toilet didn’t work. Shit (literally I guess.) I did what any good citizen would do, and I removed the toilet tank cover and proceeded to play Mr. Plumber. I got a good laugh at the fact that I was fixing a strange toilet in the middle of a bike race. At least I was having fun. I cleaned up and headed back out, ready for more two-wheeled torture.


Every once in a while, someone I knew would pass me by. Every time that happened, I tried to hang onto their wheel. Most of the time I only lasted a few seconds, but at least I was making a little progress. My leg cramps had progressed to the point that I was relegated to pushing my bike up most of the hills, and holding on for dear life on the downhills. My technical skills are usually pretty good, but my fatigue turned out to be more powerful. At one point while I was resting on the side of the trail, my boy Space Cowboy came up out of nowhere. He was hurting pretty bad too, but he was on his fourth lap.


We rode together for a while, and I even dropped him at one point (we took turns leading the way.) I’m not sure where this burst of energy came from, but I was happy to be moving at a decent pace. I came up to the water cooler again, and this time I knew it was real. We stopped for a drink and some rest, and headed back out.


Eventually though, Mr. Space Cowboy left me. He tried to keep me motivated, but my legs weren’t having it. I let him go and kept going at my slower-than-a-turtle pace. I still hurt like hell, but at one point I managed to put on my “tough guy mountain biker” face when I saw a guy snapping photographs.




Once I reached the last rock garden again, I knew I was close to the finish line. I tried my usual strategy of blasting through it, but that almost cost me a trip to the emergency room. I veered off course and barely stopped myself from flipping over the bars onto a giant jagged rock. I pushed my bike the out of the rock garden, and used what little leg power I had to make my way to the trail exit. I crossed the finish line a few minutes before 4 p.m. and saw Little Miss Sunshine waiting with the camera.



When it was all over, I only managed three laps. I still “raced” for six hours though, and I never gave up. I didn’t finish in last place either, which was my top goal. In fact fourteen people finished after I did. I have a long way to go, but it was nice to push myself. A quick look around our “camp” after the race gave the appearance of a war-torn third-world country. We were all pretty wiped out.


The MadSS was happy to be finished, I’m sure:



The Space Cowboy was feeling mighty fine after “cleaning up.”



Just leave me here. I’m not gonna make it out alive.



Since today I was kind of long-winded, I guess I’ll save my summary for tomorrow’s post. Hopefully I can remember.

Six Hours of Wearing Me Out

Wow. My first solo six hour race was an interesting experience. I knew it would be a challenge, but I way overestimated my ability. Yes, I survived, but I paid the price. Even though it was a tough race, I found myself having fun along the way (which was strange for the amount of pain I was in.) But let’s start at the beginning, shall we?


I had a half-day at work on Friday, so I took the opportunity to make sure I had everything ready. If I was gonna fail out there at the 6 Hours of Warrior Creek, it wouldn’t be because of my equipment. I washed my bike and made sure everything was in working order.



I grabbed one of our coolers, and I packed it full of food. Gel shots, PB&J, tuna, water, and a bunch of other shit I thought I would need. Last would be the water bottles. Since the race was six hours, I packed six bottles (wow, I’m so good at math.)




The next morning, Little Miss Sunshine and I loaded up my truck and headed out to Wilkesboro at around 5:30 a.m. When we were about twenty miles from our destination, I sent the MadSS a text message, asking if he was nearby. He replied and told me that he was about 5 miles ahead of me. We were set to arrive at the Warrior Creek campground (close to) on time. Since there were supposed to be over 300 racers, I knew the pit area would be filling up fast. The MadSS and his crew had secured a good spot for us, and we parked and unloaded. We had a slight issue with that part, but I’ll save it for another day this week. Anyway, we got all of our shit set up and waited on the Space Cowboy to arrive.





While we were waiting for the race to start, I started milling around to visit some of my cycling friends. I was actually pretty nervous, so it helped to talk to everyone. While I was wandering through the campground/pit area, I spotted a bike that looked very familiar to me, although I hadn’t seen it in person yet.



Yes ladies and gentlemen, this is a spy photo of the infamous Meatplow, belonging to our local racing legend, Rich Dillen. I eventually got to talk to him, and thanked him for the, uh acknowledgment a while back. I got some love from the folks at Backcountry Research because of it, so I meant it when I thanked him. We chatted for a bit, and it actually calmed me down, since he’s done more endurance races than anyone I know. I eventually left him alone so I wouldn’t accused of stalking. I forgot to let him autograph my copy of Dirt Rag though. Shit.


The race eventually started, and it was kinda odd. We didn’t head right onto the trail at first. Instead, we did a Tour de France style road ride, which was supposed to thin out the pack. That never really happened though. The road ride was dusty, and honestly it sucked ass. I couldn’t see shit, and I was coughing up dust and dirt for the next two hours. When we finally got into the trail, things didn’t get too much better. I had to last six hours out there, so I didn’t want to put the hammer down to pass anyone at first. I should have though, since every time we approached a climb I ended up losing my momemtum. Eventually, we started spreading out and I got into a rhythm.


The trail was really fast, flowy, and fun. I really had a great time on that first lap, and almost forgot that I was “racing” for six hours. I passed a few people, a few people passed me, and a few people wandered off the trail to do who knows what. You really had to pay attention, but it was well worth it. One interesting feature was the second rock garden (the first one had a go-around.) I pretty much just blasted through it with a loose grip on the bars. This turned out to be the best way, and I actually enjoyed the rocky goodness. I saw one guy try it with the white-knuckle death grip, and he paid dearly with a flat tire and a bruised and bloodied arm. I made my way through the last mile or so and headed over to the pit area. The first lap was over.




Notice the look of pain. I was actually trying to smile, but that didn’t quite work right. At the time of the photo, I had just wolfed down a bunch of food and I was trying to hurry back out on the course. Little Miss Sunshine thought I was having fun, and she was right. I hopped back on the bike and dug in for another lap, not ready for the pain that would lie ahead.


I’ll be back tomorrow with the rest of the race report, since I probably won’t have shit else to talk about this week.

Ready As Ever

So yeah, April Fool’s Day was yesterday and I didn’t post up any jokes. I guess I just wasn’t feeling that clever first thing in the morning. The real joke will be when I try to ride, er race for six hours tomorrow. The countdown is nearly over, as I will be in Wilkesboro bright and early for the 6 Hours of Warrior Creek. I’d like to tell you that I’m not nervous about doing my first six hour race, but that would just be a bunch of horse shit.





I talked to the MadSS da udda day, and he helped me calm down a little bit. He basically said to race “my own race”, and not to worry about what everyone else is doing out there. That’s a pretty good philosophy, I guess. I just plan on riding around the course at my own pace, not really worried about keeping up with the Joneses, whoever they are. I’ll attempt to only briefly stop in the pit area to swap out my water bottle and grab a bite to eat, and then I’ll head back out as quickly as possible. However, if I need to rest, I’ll do just that. Other than coming in dead last, I don’t particularly care about which place I come in. My personal goal is to complete a minimum of four laps on the thirteen mile course. That will be enough of a challenge for me.


One good thing about “racing” tomorrow is the fact that I will look Awesome when I do it. My new friends over at Backcountry Research hooked me up with an abundance of Awesome Straps, so I can even have a spare one ready to go in case I have to dig into the one I’m carrying during the race. Big thanks to them on that one. Don’t have one yet? Well, you should get one right now. Coincidentally, they are a sponsor of the 6 Hours of Warrior Creek. I’ll be like a rolling billboard for them, what with my double Awesome action and all.


So , I guess I’m looking forward to the big event tomorrow. I’ll be leaving the B-43 Worldwide Headquarters at 5:30 a.m., so that part kind of sucks. I hate getting up that early in the morning, but I pretty much have to so I can get a good spot (and I have to drive for like an hour and a half to get there.) I’ll be sharing a pit area with the MadSS and his Mrs., plus the Space Cowboy, and whoever else decides to cram into our little tent city. Good times, indeed. I’m taking a much needed R&R day for Monday, so most likely I won’t be here with the race report until Tuesday. I’ll be enjoying a nice, well-deserved massage. See y’all next week, if I survive the “race.”

Shakedown Ride

With the 6 Hours of Warrior Creek only two days away, I was itching to get out on the trail for one more ride. When I said I wanted to try to get out to a trail after work (instead of riding the road bike), Little Miss Sunshine suggested that I hit up the U.S. National Whitewater Center. I liked the idea, especially since it’s the closest place around here that has any kind of toughness to it. I packed up my bike and headed over there after work.


I was hoping for a trail ride so I could make sure that my bike was in working order, hoping that I would have plenty of time to make any repairs or adjustments. Also, I had another test to do. Even though I’ve done several reviews on the Awesome Strap, I wanted to try something else. Of course, the Awesome Strap passed with flying colors for it’s intended use, but I had another idea. Since I have a few extras, I decided to see if I could use one of them to hold my manual pump somewhere on my frame, rather than carrying it in my jersey pocket and risk losing it. The Back Forty was meant to hold a ton of shit, but could it manage holding a measly air pump all by its lonesome?





I didn’t have a lot of time, so last night’s ride was far from epic. I did however; get to test both my bike and my bike handling skills to their fullest. Just like the first time that I tested the Awesome Strap, I tried to keep from checking it the whole ride. Although I like my old shitty Kenda hand pump, it wouldn’t be a big deal if I lost it. Besides, I was testing the limits of the Awesome Strap, and I wanted the test to be accurate.


The ride went well. I didn’t blast through the trail at a super-human rate of speed (I’m not capable of that anyway.) I kept a decent pace though, and didn’t stop to rest. I did stop once though, because my sunglasses were coated in sweat and I couldn’t see. Even at that 5 second stop, I didn’t look down to see if my secondary Awesome Strap had lost its contents. I just cleaned off my glasses and got on my way.


After completeing my one and only lap, I pulled into the parking lot to see if I needed to buy a new pump. And wouldn’t you know, it was still there, in all its Awesomeness. The damn thing didn’t move an inch either. Even though the Back Forty is designed to carry tons of crap, it did just fine carrying one lonely, ancient hand pump. The folks at Backcountry Research are even more awesome than I originally thought. Big thanks to Richard at BR for hooking me up with extra awesomitude (yeah, I made that word up.)



Now I am twice as awesome.

I only found some minor things wrong with the bike, which was expected. I’m only working a half-day tomorrow, so that will give me plenty of time to correct the issues. I have a small braking issue, plus a few not yet identified squeaks to address. It will be another fun day of bike mechanicin’. I’ll probably be back here tomorrow as well, so lucky you again. See ya.