The fam and I went to Rocky and Chelli’s house in North Arlington to watch the Puppy Bowl last night. Some fool put on a football game that lasted until 11. We ate too much and drank some ourselves some beers. Still crazy after all these years. Wait, no. Oh, nevermind. The point is we didn’t get home until 11:30.
After 5 1/2 hours of sleep I was awake. I decided to take my daughter’s car in for service since it had a flat-ish front tire. So I put Little Nellie in the trunk and drove to the mechanic. I pulled Little Nellie out of the trunk and the pedals wouldn’t turn. I should know better but I pushed on the pedals a couple of times in the hopes of freeing things up. No such luck. I looked down and saw the rear shifter cable looped over the left crank arm.
I unlooped the cable but now the cable was all stretched. I played with it and my 2-cent mechanical skills allowed me a full 10 gears to ride to work with. That ought to be enough, thought I, and off I went. I was a little underdressed for the 28 degree weather but I warmed up soon enough. The ride in was pretty uneventful. I passed Bob Cannon (@rcannon100) on the MVT as he was heading south and I was heading north. He didn’t notice me. I am so inconspicuos on my clown bike.
I survived the Rosslyn Circle of Doom and an entire d
ay smashing words and numbers into littler words and numbers. Just before 5 I headed home. It was LIGHT OUT!!!!! I didn’t bother to turn my headlight on until I was in Old Town. On the way there I stopped to check out the cut in the beaver dam north of Slaters Lane. The National Park Service has a crack Beaver Dam Demolition Team. They come and breach the dam whenever it gets high enough to cause flooding near the trail and the adjacent playing fields. Beaver Dam Demolition is a full time job. The NPS-BDDT is out there working every week. You can see the beavers sitting off to the side flipping them the beaver bird.
I didn’t have to pick up the car. Mrs. Rootchopper picked up our daughter and they did it for me. The mechanic couldn’t find a leak but strangely he charged us for plugging it. Which I suppose is fair because the last time he fixed an actual leak, he fixed it for free. I think I may have to find a mechanic located outside of the Twilight Zone.
In the last half mile before home, snowflakes began to swirl around me. The new name for these don’t-amount-to-anything snows we are having is “conversational snow”. If this one gets chatty, I may have to drive tomorrow.