I've got this cheap Chinese-manufactured (redundant, I know) bicycle.
I rode it around town for about a month after I bought it. One day, the rear tire blew out while I was inflating it. The sound of that tire blowing
echoed through the neighborhood, and it scared me half to death --- my head was right next to the damn thing when it went.
I bought two new tubes (figuring I'd replace both the factory tubes while I was going to the trouble). It was an entertaining hassle removing the
wheels from the bike and swapping the tubes out.
The rear derailleur---the mechanism that, when the gear shifter is engaged, moves the chain from cog to cog---needed to be recalibrated after I got
the rear wheel back on and reset the chain on the gears.
Ok, no problem. I had saved the manual to the bicycle, which contains maintenance instructions and setup procedures. So, I dusted it off and sat for a
good while trying to make heads or tails of the derailleur.
Now you must bear in mind: I have the attention span of a retarded gnat on a good day, and since I was also, incidentally, stoned out of my mind, I
simply couldn't make sense of what I was supposed to be doing...high limit screw, low limit screw, barrel adjuster?
It was hopeless, and it was certainly a pathetic sight. When I die, if anecdotes of a life-review are based in fact, I hope I can skip this portion of
the show. Crestfallen, I parked the bike, where for months and months it sat, untouched.
Yesterday, the bike snared my attention. I looked at it, strewn in cobwebs, its sparkly blue finish obscured by a thick accretion of dust, then sprang
to work, turning it upside down on cinderblocks on the lawn, crawling on my knees around it, making adjustments to the derailleur, cranking the pedals
by hand, shifting through the gears, and repeating this process over and over until finally, my brow dewy with sweat and a sheen of oil, grease, and
grime on my hands, the fog of my ignorance gave way to a clear blue sky of understanding: the gear shifter moved the chain, smoothly and without
hesitation, from gear to gear, up and down and up again.
I actually fixed it! Unable to remove the smile from my face, I took it for a
ride and basked in the pride of having
actually done something right by using my own faculties of observation and focus.
Today, I planned on a ride after coming home from a hike with my family. I went to hop on my bike, and my heart plunged when I noticed the rear tire
had blown out, again.
At least my head wasn't right next to it this time.
Such is life.