Kermit's Revenge

 

the next step 

(source: Google image search)

20 July 2023

Janice got a new stem on Monday. I put air in her tires and checked all of her batteries on Monday evening. I rested her by the front door, taking special care not to put any pressure on the shifters. I'd heard stories about people draining their batteries that way.

For the first time since I started riding with the Premeds (a name that reflects how I feel far more than how they act), I was looking forward to the hilly ride with the hammer finish. If the new setup were to work, I'd climb with ease and pound on the big ring without my lower back turning into a hot knife. 

As usual, I checked the batteries again when I got to the ride. This time I used my GPS, which tells me the exact percentage of charge left in the derailleurs. Sometimes I have to move the shifters to get the GPS to register. I did this. Nothing happened. The GPS still showed "?" for the charge, and the derailleurs weren't moving. The tiny indicator light on the rear derailleur, which was a solid green on Monday (50-100% charge), wasn't even lighting up. What had I done? Did the bike slip, depressing a shifter lever indefinitely, over the past couple of days? Did something happen in the rain a couple of weeks ago? Did a wire break? Did something get reset at the bike shop?

I slid Janice back into the car and drove home. Fucking electronics. I'd gladly switch to cables again if I could keep the wheels and disc brakes.

I plugged Janice into the charger, put air in Kermit's tires, and headed out on my own.

This is why I have a fleet. When one bike goes down, there are others to choose from. Kermit is a 1997 Waterford 2200 that I got used in the fall of 2000. He's full steel, and a mix of Shimano high-end components. I never have to worry about Kermit. Kermit doesn't have stupid shifter batteries or stupid derailleur batteries. Sure, Kermit's front derailleur shifting is a little sloppy these days, and he's not the fastest bike in my fleet. But Kermit and I have over 47 thousand miles together. Kermit hasn't been seeing as much road time since Janice came home. I've been in the hills too much. Tonight was Kermit's revenge. Get on and roll.

When I'm by myself, I take the old Friday night route. It's not flat, but the few rollers and hills aren't much compared to what Our Jeff throws at us on Wednesday evenings. With all that hill energy, and a dose of bike-worry adrenaline on top of it, I decided to push as hard as I could for 20-odd miles. I needed to know if I could take Kermit on the century I'm planning for this coming Saturday. I'd wanted to take Janice, but...

My L5-S1 disc herniation was diagnosed at the end of 2010. For three months, I did intense physical therapy at home, two 45-minute sessions each day. Eventually I got it down to a few minutes of back and leg stretches. In 2016 I had a flareup that felt worse than the original injury. With the muscles around the bad disc still spasming, I put together a hefty inversion table and got on.  When I resurfaced five minutes later, I felt two inches taller. "You put everything back into place," my doctor said when I told him I was probably experiencing confirmation bias. I've been on that table twice each day ever since, although my time upside-down has become noticeably shorter.

Since things started hurting again a few weeks ago, I'm back to more intense PT and longer hangs. It's working. That said, it only took 14.66 miles of hammering on Kermit for things to start feeling off again. I hammered the rest of the way home anyhow. I came in at the lowest edge of B+, a speed I haven't seen in a long, long time. I have no intention of riding this hard for 100 miles, and now I know that, on Kermit, I won't be able to. He needs a new stem.

Janice was fully charged when I got back. The derailleurs responded to the shifters. The little light was a steady green. The GPS picked up 100% charge right away.

With some skepticism, I moved her to lean against the wall by the back door, taking extra care to make sure the shifter levers were nowhere near that wall. For the rest of the night, I periodically checked her charge and shifting. I decided to ride her to work the next day. I needed to be sure the fit was good and that the battery would hold.

In the morning, Janice was still at 100%. 

The minute I got on, I thought, "Whoa! I might as well get a banana seat!" The handle bar felt so high! The feeling lasted a few hundred yards. By the time I hit the I-95 overpass, I'd forgotten all about it and was churning away in the big ring. Seven miles later, I'd hit my second highest average speed of the season, this time without a tailwind. 

In the afternoon, I called Ross and told him what happened. He confirmed that it had to have been a depressed shifter, but he said to keep an eye on things in case it's not. I'd know before Saturday, he assured me. As for the raised bar, the stem swap took me from a 6 degree rise to a 10 degree rise, not much at all. On the other hand, tiny changes like this make an enormous difference.

All day long I've been checking Janice's battery status. "I'm fine," she says. "I got this."

Janice sleeping at my desk

And then I figured it out. On my last check of the day before riding home, I depressed the rear shifter again. It clicked to go into the next cog up, but without the wheel moving, the chain wasn't moving. The motor just kept on clicking. 

I did this! It was me! When I was checking the shifter battery status and depressed both levers at once, I must have missed, sending the motor into a job it couldn't complete until the battery ran itself empty. I probably didn't have my hearing aids in. I didn't hear the fruitless click click click click click click.

I feel so much better now. Janice is going to the beach on Saturday!