The Trouble with Piggy

 View from the Masonic Lodge, Princeton, NJ

The trouble with Miss Piggy is that she never stays dialed in for more than a few weeks.  That I managed to go all winter without having to adjust the cables or the derailleur or something else probably has more to do with the bad weather than having gotten everything just right.

So when, last week, I lost the rear small cogs to front derailleur rub when in the front middle ring only, I was not the least bit surprised.  I was, however, annoyed.

I spent much of today's Spring Fling ride grinding away, and unable to shift into the big ring unless the chain was already on the smallest cog, dumping me into 52/11 whether I wanted to be there or not.  Dave H was much amused by my two-handed shifting antics at the top of the Sourland Mountain.

Now that I'm taking Jim's bike maintenance class, I was hoping that this would be something I could learn how to fix myself.  The first thing I did when I got back to the Masonic Temple was to find Jim.

We took a look at it, and he figured out that the derailleur was toed in too much.  He started in on adjusting it but stopped because it would require a cable adjustment.  I resigned myself to taking Piggy to Hart's.  Again.

6400+ miles, and 1000 of those are on the repair stand.

Tom is a retired bike shop owner to works for Ross now.  He's new to Miss Piggy and to my special relationship with the shop guys.  He was about to write up a repair ticket when I told him that the fix should be quick.  Then I described the problem. I think I won him over by being so specific, and he put the bike up on the repair stand.

It took about five minutes for him to make the repair, most of that time having been spent figuring out what was wrong.  The derailleur had dropped down, clockwise, just a few millimeters, which was more than enough to throw things off.  That's a new one for Miss Piggy. "I hate front derailleurs," he said.

I told him I can never keep the bike in tune for more than a few weeks at a time.  "You ride too hard," he said. "That's your problem."

"Uh-huh.  But my other two never give me any trouble."

"How is the Tommasini?"

"I love that bike."

I said, "Last night I dreamed I decided to get rid of the Cannondale, but you guys told me I wouldn't get more than $500 for it."

"You're probably right."

"I'll keep it till the frame cracks."

"Then you should get a Guru."

"I'm not sure I want any more carbon."

He showed me Ross' new Guru frame.  "Here," he said, handing it to me. At first I wasn't sure I was holding it; the frame was that light. "Five thousand dollars for the frame."

I said, "There's no beauty in carbon frames."

"They're not designed for that," he admitted.

I keep Miss Piggy because she's geared to get me up the big hills.  I can finish a tough ride and walk away from it.  She's easier on my back than the others are because of her gearing and lower weight.  But if I were forced to get rid of one of my frames, she'd be the second to go after Gonzo (and that's only because the frame is very nearly beat to shit).

Love her or hate her, Miss Piggy is mine until the frame falls apart.