So Lu and I went for a ride today to celebrate her birthday. Out to Ft. Ord for a nice, easy ride.
After a few miles I went to my back brakes for some slow and whoa. The handle went to the bars with little slow and definitely no whoa. I suddenly remembered my last ride on Friday. One of the pads had come loose. I made a mental note to fix it when I got home. Mental is the key word here. If I don't write it down these days, it didn't happen. So...it didn't happen.
Cut to today. I adjusted the pad and managed to twist it such that it was in place and secure. Off we went.
At about 6 miles I felt like I was peddling a serious uphill. I mean, it was painful. I chalked it up to dead legs from my heavy workout pace this last week. I put in a lot of miles and time in the gym. I am retired now after all.
Then we got to The Hill. It's a leg breaker. Normally not a real problem but today I barely made it up in granny gear and suffered the whole way. I was in the pain cave big time. By the time I crested the hill, well back from Lu who dropped me like a handful of slug, I was cooked. Done.
We made it back to the truck but that was it. I was badly disappointed but figured it was just one of those days. I put the bikes in the rack and as I put mine on I brushed the rear wheel with my arm. Can you guess what I discovered? You can? I knew you were smart.
Yup. When I twisted the pad tight, the tightness was the pad being wedged against the rear wheel. It wouldn't turn with mild pressure. I had to give it some muscle to even get it to spin at all.
So at least I didn't bonk because I'm a wuss. Just a moron.
Six
