Even though I didn't drive, that shouldn't stop me from doing bike-related tasks. I had won a $25 gift card from Bike Pedalers at the "Bike to Work, Lincoln!" rally at the State Office Building on Friday.
I exchanged that for a portion of some nice Pearl Izumi shorts and socks over my lunch break.
My daughter and I gave my bike a quick cleaning in the front yard while my son crashed out on the couch after dinner. While brushing out the cassette, I busted the "pie plate" between the spokes and large cog. Whoops. The whole thing flaked off into tiny bits and is strewn about my lawn. Meh, it's extra weight. It really doesn't do anything and I look less like a noob.
That round plastic thing next to the spokes is a pie plate. Found at bikesnobnyc's blog
There's a problem with losing the pie plate: I have this "White Men Can't Jump" fantasy where I build up my cardiovascular system to Miguel Indurain levels and a Lance Armstrong pain threshold and show up at a bike race in a strange town while dressed in some plain gym shorts and a "freebie" t-shirt one might find at a tourist trap with a 5 year old entry level bike (complete with the "pie plate") and a helmet of similar age and some black socks.
"You mean race bicycles?"
I guess I could buy a new pie plate or score one from a shop that removes them on general principle. But that won't be sufficiently dirty for the full effect.
Anywho...
I have been sitting on some Dura Ace brake pads for the roadie bike for a couple of weeks now. My daughter looked on as I swapped those out.
Ever since she started riding without training wheels or my hands on her shoulders, she's been a bike fanatic. I may have to find her one of these in five or six years.
It being Bike to Work week, I'm a bit disappointed with my co-workers: none of them rode today, either.
Miles: maybe 0.2 while testing the brakes.
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