The Season is Over, OR a Dream Come True, AND Rest in Peace

One night, while we were still living in Seattle, I had a dream. In my dream, it went from summer to there being a blanket of snow in October instantly. In my dream, I was heartbroken. The quickness of October's snow came without warning, and I felt robbed.

I knew this was how I would feel, fully awake, when the riding season came to an end. That I would feel robbed, and the grief of not being able to ride anymore.

Shortly after being home in Michigan again,and getting out on my bike, I knew I had a shot of getting in 500 trail miles for the season––or possibly even 500 trail miles just in Michigan. I had only ridden 28 trail miles back in Seattle during the spring, so 528 total trail miles this year wasn't much more to shoot for. I have less than 150 miles to go––something that could easily be accomplished in three weeks, and I'm hoping to be riding into December. Yesterday, though, that hope came to an end.

My bike hasn't been shifting right for over a year now. I'd fiddle with the indexing while riding, and be completely frustrated with it. When I got home I would make adjustments and think everything was fine, only to repeat the process on the next ride. I've known for a couple of years that it might be getting close to retiring this bike. I was hoping to at least get through the rest of this riding season with it. Then, perhaps next spring I would be in a place financially to replace this bike. Yesterday, the hope of it making it through this riding season perished.

Yesterday, after making more shifting adjustments between laps, I was sure I had it dialed in. I was positive I solved the problem. A sticking cable inside of the cable housing near the rear derailleur. But, soon into my ride, it wasn't shifting right. Ugh! Then, at the top of a climb the rear end of my bike felt really squirrelly. I got off, and examined my bike. One of the bolts for the rear suspension had broken, and was now missing. Not the end of the world, by any means. I figured I would just walk my bike out, and slowly retrace the steps and pedal strokes in hopes of finding the broken part. 3 miles and 3 hours of careful walking later, I didn't see it anywhere along the trail which was completely covered in fallen leaves.

Still, not the end of the world. I went to the Trek dealer in town. It is a pretty inexpensive part––$18.01 special order, and it will be here in two days, possibly the next day. SWEET! I ordered it.

I went home and decided, while I wait for the part to come, I might just see if the rear derailleur is in need of replacement. It is the original, maybe it is time. But, it still has good tension. It just feels dirty. I started disassembling it for cleaning. To make it easier, I decided to pull the rear wheel. That is when I found this. The end of the world. The crack in the rear frame.

The crack in the frame explains the sheered pivot bolt. It explains why I could never get the shifting right, even when it was completely dialed in on the bike stand––the rear end was torquing too much due to the broken frame. Deep sigh.

So many good rides with that bike. Rides with Sam. Rides with great friends. Amazing conversations. Incredible times alone. Shaping others. And being shaped. Rest in Peace good and trusted companion.