I Want to Break Free

Two days in a row with a temperature above 10 degrees meant that it was time to rid my head of a couple months worth of shag yesterday. Earlier in the week I pulled my mountain bike in for the limited spring tune-up I'm capable enough to perform.

Last year after my early season crash, I took my bike in to the shop to have things re-aligned and looked over since my knee was so buggered up that I wasn't going to be riding for a few weeks anyways. At the time, I was told that my shocks were likely in need of new bushings to eliminate some of the 'sloppy' feel I was noticing at the time. Well today, after placing an order online for some parts I need at prices 50% to 75% cheaper than those at the local shops, I decided to finish the work I had started on my bike.

After truing up the wheels and putting my tires back on, I checked the compression on my shocks and noticed a kind of squelching, squirting noise coming from inside. After a bit of reading, I think it means that the oil seals inside are pooched which could make for some expensive time in the shop unless I can find a decent guide to do the work myself. After having turned to an online store to avoid the mark-up in the local lower volume shops, I can only imagine what they'll want to charge me for more limited parts and labour. They sure won't want to take any parts I can find for cheap online and do the labour for me, as nice as that would be.

The money spent on keeping the bike in good shape so I can get my own ass in shape is already enough to cover a few 24s of beer that could serve well to keep me out of shape. The forecast repairs, will likely cover a few more cases. All I wanted was to get out on my damned bike.

Geek is as Geek Does

When you're a big nerd, with little money, and few other available options available despite the freakishly warm weather, activities like geocaching seem like a good idea. When I was a kid it used to be getting dressed up in full camouflage outfits and playing manhunt in the park behind my buddies house, now its aggrandized treasure hunting. For those too lazy to check the link, it basically amounts to using a handheld GPS unit to look for otherwise randomly hidden taped up peanut butter jars filled with trinkets and a notepad.

I don't infact own a GPS unit, but Steve scored one in his x-mas stash and has become fairly addicted. My girlfriend and I, on the other hand just use, him as an excuse to get out and do something without spending much beyond the cost of gas, and extra loads of laundry to wash out the inevitable caking of mud. Like I say, its really just an excuse, as I was just as engaged in scrambling up and down the muddy slopes of the trails next to the Grand River as anyone while twilight settled in last night. However, the line for me is drawn at logging in to an online community to document, with an obscure set of acronyms, my nerdly glory.

Instead, I take my pocket protector, with a dash of nostalgia, and embrace the online community that is become Facebook. Its really like a rolodex status symbol combined with a highschool reunion, with only a small side of catching up with people you lost touch with that you otherwise actually liked, or the networking with new acquaintances. Its more addictive than it really should be for what it is, a less annoying version of MySpace. A review of some awful home videos from the past last night affirms that sometimes things from the past are sequestered there for very good reason.