I noticed that my bike's rear brake pads were shot. So I swung by Fort Bragg Cyclery this morning on my way through town.
A fortuitous decision. Not only did the mechanic bump me to the head of the line, but he got those pads installed pronto and re-trued the rear wheel, which had somehow come a little bit out of whack.
He also fixed the clicking noise in the drive train. This was apparently a result of master mechanic Dougie Doride’s blowing something when he installed the new chain in the campsite last night while he was too tired to think straight.
While I was waiting, I purchased new batteries for my taillights and a spare fuel canister for my stove from nearby stores.
The mechanic told me that “tweakers”—habitual users of meth—roam the campground I stayed at last night—stealing stuff.
A deaf-dumb cyclist lost his bike and all of his possessions a couple years ago, while camping in the same site I was camped in, the mechanic said.
 |
| Fort Bragg tech working on my Surly |
He also warned me not to leave my bike outside the town’s Safeway. “I always bring my bike inside with me,” his partner said.
I heeded her advice, and the store’s manager let me park my bike in the hallway to the store’s office.
“Nobody will mess with it here,” she said.
I was originally planning to camp at Manchester State Park tonight but there were only a few campers there when I arrived and no employees. It looked abandoned. And were those pit toilets?
So I paid $10 to stay at KOA Manchester. It’s a very nice family-friendly place just up the hill from the state park.
I used the free shower and the $2 laundry. Passed on the pool and the hot tub.
The tent camper in the adjacent site invited me over to share drinks with him and his wife.
He said they had fled to the coast to escape the 108 degree temps in their hometown, Stockton CA.
It was in the 50s here.
I reluctantly turned him down. I need to sleep as much as possible while doing these rides.
No comments:
Post a Comment