If running on the treadmill was stupid the other night, doing it again Fridat INSTEAD of riding was stupider. Stupider still was Thursday when I crashed at MMCC with less than a mile left in my ride. Not sure what happened? I made a left turn, possibly hit something under the blanket of leaves and the next thing I knew I was in a ditch along the trail looking up at my bike.
I haven't gone down in a while... maybe since last March's shoulder fucking, season fucking crash on black ice? Thankfully this time there were NO bodily injuries save for a slightly bruised knee cap. BUT (God I hate "buts") the rear wheel was somehow out of its dropout and front wheel was fucked, loosing air and shooting Stan's spooge. Frig.
I shot some Co2 in the front and sealed the leak, but the wheel was all sorts of fucked. Fffffffffff! I was at least able to pedal the last mile or so back to the xB. But all I could think about was the fact that these wheels are just a few months old and I have fucked one up already. Actually for the SECOND time, as I broke a spoke back in August on the rear wheel. Thank God the rest of the ride was awesome or I would be more pissed.
Just as I started typing this late Friday when Napper from Terry's called me and confirmed the wheel can't be saved and needs to be sent back to Easton to be rebuilt. Fffffffff! (did I say that already?)
Napper did offer to lend me a front wheel to hold me over until I can get the wheel back from Easton, and that is supper cool. God bless the LBS.
Saturday (today) I returned to MMCC on the Spearfish. Felt like shite, rode like shit, did one SHORT lap and split. Mind was in a fajunk.
I gotz pics to go with this, just too lazy.