I took my front fork in to the bike shop yesterday in order to have some routine maintenance done on it. By routine I mean that I have neglected to ever do any maintenance on it. I grew up on a fully rigid Shogun “Prairie Breaker II” so when I first got suspension I guess I figured that they took care of themselves like the steel fork of my youth.
I proceeded to the shop part of the store and asked the guy up front who was replacing some tubes if they could work on the fork.
“Sure, let me go talk to one of our mechanics and I will be right with you” He said.
As I was waiting I wandered around the store noticing all the brand new bikes in the store. My friend Dave and I swapped bikes back in 2007, he got my road bike and I got his full suspension mountain bike. As it turned out I hated road riding and Dave decided that mountain biking was not a venture that he should be taking on with one arm. Dave does everything else that you can imagine with one arm, but mountain biking is not one of them anymore. Road biking, however, was something that he could do and I was more than happy to get rid of the one that I had bought brand new and was not getting any joy out of. That bike was an attempt on my part to adapt to living in eastern South Dakota, it didn’t take.
So needless to say (but I guess I will anyway) my bike is getting old. The Diamondback Full-Suspension bike is I would guess almost 15 years old now. I tried to take care of it as best I could but it is starting to nickel and dime me. I looked at the new Cannondale full-suspension 27.5″ and 29″ wheel bikes and realized how old the components and technology on my bike were. I lusted. I thought about starting a “Go Fund Me” campaign to buy a new bike, then I realized that those campaigns are for noble reasons. I just wanted a new bike.
So the guy that took my fork back into the shop brought it back out and was accompanied by the most merciful mechanic I have ever seen. He looked at me as a doctor would if they had to give me some bad news.
“You look like the doctor that is about to tell me that my dog just died” I said. I had intended to say “you look like the doctor that is about to tell me that my child died” but that seemed a bit harsh for the moment. Instead, halfway through my quip I changed direction and “dog” came out.
He looked shocked (hey, I made a pun), then he smile and said “yeah” looking at my shock “your dog just died”.
“They don’t make parts for that shock anymore, and we can’t fix it”.
So I spent the next ten minutes working with the “merciful mechanic” on finding a shock that works for an old mountain bike that has 26″ tires and V-brakes. For those of you that do not know what that means, I am riding a dinosaur.
Thank you to Silverdale Cyclery for your impeccable bedside manner, as a pastor I know that no one likes bad news. You gently allowed me my moment to mourn and helped me move on.