It's Pedalpalooza in Portland, a fortnight of bike-related events that I had forgotten about until I left Harvey's on Saturday at midnight to be greeted by a peleton of naked bikers. The two road comics I was working with were very impressed by the display, as I commented, oh, it's naked bike ride time again already. Craigslist Missed Connections was also pretty active the next day, although suitors had to be fairly observant about bike makes, colors, and models, since "you were naked, so was I" did not really narrow the field.
Sensing the impending good times, my back wheel exploded Tuesday morning. Beloved Spouse took it into the shop, and said they were impressed by the level of metal fatigue/failure that caused the rim to curl away from the wheel. He called and said:
B.S.: There's a fifty dollar wheel available, and also one that's $250, which is more than we spent for your bike.
Me: Well, the wheel that exploded was $150, and served me well for three years and about seven thousand miles, and never needed truing- so I'd like to get the higher-end wheel. If it outlasts the frame, I'll make a tall unicycle out of it and keep riding.
B.S.: Of course, there's also the fifty dollar one.
Ah marriage!
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