I have a long and storied history of bike shop misadventures. If I heard my tales secondhand, I would believe that I, Leah Peterson, am the problem, as I am the common denominator. But I make you a solemn promise that I can’t see how. And I am gracious, even in the misadventures. But they always happen. You can count on it.
There are 2 shops in town. One well-established, the one I always patronize. My bikes are oddballs there, but they never point that out. Great shop. Best I have had in years. I’ve had some misadventures there, but I caught the mistakes and the shop fixed them. Minor stuff. The other shop is in a downtrodden part of town, and they work on a lot of beater bikes. BUT, they know all about Bridgestone and Mount Tam and a little of Rivendell and they revere it all. My son’s Future College Clem was assembled by them, and the mechanic greased every bolt. He saw all the fine points of that frame and mentioned them. He even met Grant once at a conference/bike show. He took his time with the Clem and I really respected his work. That shop doesn’t work on a lot of high-end bikes, and they are eager to see beautiful steel bikes like Rivendells. The Racing Platy has a lot of miles on it by now. It needed: a tune-up, new chain, new cassette, possibly new tires, new brake pads, pedals rebuilt, and to be inspected for anything else. When you have a Lifetime Bike, you must keep it tip-top so it lasts. Because I wanted a thorough tune up, and because they had so fussed over our Clem, I called the shop and asked if they would service my Rivendell. “Don’t tempt ME with a good time!” Rob said.* (Rob is not his real name.) I drove there, wheeled the bike to the entrance and Rob and an employee are smoking something outside. Red flag number one. I feel an urge to turn on my heel. Maybe I’m mistaken; I decide to keep an open mind. We go inside. The mechanic who assembled our Clem is not here. The shop is in tatters as Rob is moving locations. The other man comes by with a pile of metal rods and nearly bashes them into my Platypus. I cringe. Rob says he’ll have the bike done in 48 hours. I’ve provided most of the parts, but will need cassette and chain. I ask him to keep the gearing I have - it’s my club ride bike and the gearing is perfect. No changes, please. Rob calls me on Wed to tell me he has this cassette laying around that isn’t the same but should work. I decline, telling him that the bike is DIALED. I agree to wait a couple days while he places an order. But I don’t hear from Rob. So, I call him today. Rob is nervous. Rob is apologetic. Rob has a sick kid and 400 interruptions. Rob has not gotten anything done. “I don’t know how to do tubeless,” he admits. “The guy I had coming to rebuild your pedals and do your tubeless didn’t show up. I have a buddy that I can call to come by and show me.” I panic. “No, no,” I say, “Just leave the tubeless and I’ll take care of it.” “I pulled the tires off,” he says, “So now we HAVE to do something about the tubeless.” My heart sinks and my mind spins. I want to race over and collect my disassembled bike. I can’t believe this shop owner has no formal training on tubeless and was going to invite his friends over to service mine. “Well,” I say, keeping my tone calm and measured, “How about you put on that rear cassette and then I’ll just get the bike the way it is and take it with me.” I figure this will let him keep some pride and earn a little money. I head to the shop wanting to die a thousand deaths because I have 2 miserable conversations before me: The first will be when I get to Rob’s shop. How much will he expect me to pay for his services? Will he have damaged my bike? Will he return all the parts I’ve left with him? The second will be facing the staff at “my” bike shop, admitting my unfaithfulness and asking them to fix what Rob has done. I decide I’m going to be gracious for the first conversation and humble for the second. Rob has my Platypus wrapped in foam and in the stand. He gets my naked rims back on my bike. There’s a new cassette that he assures me is the same gearing as my old one. He has put my ebike brake pads on. He charges me $35 which is fair and he carries my bike to the van. I carry my bag of parts and with my heart in my throat, toss them in the passenger seat, and point the van towards My Shop. I leave the bike in the van. I walk into My Shop and the cowbell on the door shatters the silence. I am the only customer in the store. Five employees look up. “Why is that bell so loud?!” I ask. “Leah, hey! So you can’t sneak in here, of course!” They are happy to see me. This makes everything worse. I stand there with my pathetic bag o’ parts in one hand and my new Ultradynamico tires in the other. “Guys,” I say, “We have to have a talk. A terrible thing has happened…I let someone else work on my bike… and now I need you to fix it.” I am overcome. I burst out laughing. They burst out laughing. I yell, “I cheated on you and I AM SO SORRY AND I WILL NEVER DO IT AGAIN!” One of them says, “Do you need a hand with your bike?” I send him a desperate look. “Yes, because it doesn’t have any wheels.” We are bent over laughing again. The dreamy master mechanic, who I know well and never should have strayed from, takes my Platypus with its naked rims and puts it right in the stand. I beg him to look it over and make it roadworthy, to fix whatever needs fixing. “Would you like a quote?” he asks. “No,” I say, “It costs what it costs, and I’m happy to pay it. And I’m sorry.” We laugh a little bit more and I leave. Then my phone rings. It’s the master mechanic, who has noticed that Rob has not sent my tubeless valve stems and caps with me. My specially anodized teal and rose stems and caps, that I paid handsomely for. One way or another, you will atone for your sins, Leah Peterson. These are the kinds of things that happen to me at bike shops. You will all now tell me how I should learn to work on my own bikes, but I think I know that my place in the world is to keep bike shops in business. I have learned different lessons. I have learned what can happen when you are unfaithful with your Platypus. Leah -- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "RBW Owners Bunch" group. To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to rbw-owners-bunch+unsubscr...@googlegroups.com. To view this discussion on the web visit https://groups.google.com/d/msgid/rbw-owners-bunch/031f8eab-981c-4d7d-a179-577647521531n%40googlegroups.com.
