Wednesday, May 9, 2018

One Last Bolt



Flash update: I was one bolt away from finishing the starter change-out on the Ranger. I have the number of a mobile RV mechanic, and despite the fact that the ‘old’ Shadow (born 1996) gave me a successful lift to the parts store, the PB and to the club this morning, she has been temporarily replaced by the ‘new’ Shadow (nee 2002). Found this little beaut on Craigs List and couldn’t resist the lure of dependability. Today I crawl back under the Ranger to fix the signal wire attaching to starter solenoid, negotiate with the RV wrench and ride the ‘old’ Shadow out to the shop for a major tune up. The ‘new’ Shadow will henceforth act as trusty steed. 

Health and Fitness update: Somehow or another I tweaked my left knee either during Sunday’s 40 miler or Monday morning’s high intensity spin session. I can barely bend it. Then, yesterday as I negotiated a 3/8 drive ratchet armed with two extenders and a universal joint knuckle assembly (the last bolt), the muffler pipe, transmission housing and fuel line all conspired to keep me from using my hands the way they were intelligently designed. And they cramped with fingers seizing into frozen, useless fists. Every time I tried to find the sweet spot of comfort, either stretched wide open or a tightly wound ready-for-action ball-peen hammer-fist, they would lock up. And hurt like hell. So I would crawl out from under the truck, carefully standing to avoid the insult to injury of hyper extending my knee, only to rise and brace as hypotension would attempt a cold-cock TKO. I kept doing the math in my head to determine whether or not paying John $300 for the same job that is now threatening my very life made it any more a value. 

PowerBarn update: After a day of frustration and agony playing the mechanical antagonist, after the ‘old’ Shadow carried me to the parts store and finally to the PB, I am thinking about what could possibly be next. I am ready to call it a day and hit the chair for the nightly news (knowing it would NOT be any better), when the folks start to show up to ride. One by one, we warm up and calibrate. They are off and I make coaching small talk, wondering how many see through my politeness to the inner anguish and failing pain management at my core. 

One load generator won’t hold wattage properly,  one trainer stand is squeaking a metal on aluminum hiss and when one tire flats, I am at boiling point. Critical mass of meltdown. I want to cry. My hands start to cramp again and I can feel inside my chest that a damaged pump is struggling to keep blood flow equal to demand. Here, now? THAT would be fitting. He stroked-out doing what he loved, spraying WD 40 on parts, fixing flats and screaming vulgarities that would make Scarface blush. 

Low-down update: I slept enough to recharge to about 50%. Class this morning was way, WAY under the power/output requirements, but we made it. The bus to ferry was late but we made it. The ‘new’ Shadow has been successfully transported and now sits shining beside Shadow the Younger. I am still light-headed but the sun is shining and after a cat-nap in the sun I will crawl back out to crawl back under the Ranger. 

And deal with that one last bolt. 

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