Words from a recovering sufferer
by Lily Slain
C.U.N.T., Volume 5, Spring 1997
I am writing this article for the sake of others who may suffer froma painful, humiliating and debilitating condition that I myself have knownfor years. I refer, of course, to Bike Repair Despair (BRD).
I was taught by my father how to ride a bike, when I was about seven.I thought he taught me all there was to know, like oiling the moving parts,and letting the air out of the tires for winter storage. For everythingelse, we simply took the bike to a dingy, bike-crammed repair shop knownas McWhinney’s, just down the street.
Coming from an academically oriented family, I think I must have imaginedthat the McWhinney's staff and people like them had achieved some sortof advanced degree in bike mechanics. It never occurred to me that I couldalso perform bike repair. I approached it with the same sense of deep self-doubtthat would have assailed me if I had found myself forced by circumstancesto perform a tracheotomy, Bike Repair Despair.
Later, handy and perhaps over-zealous women friends frightened me further.One explained to me that a chainbreaker was the most important tool. Itwould enable you to take your chain off and soak it in kerosene to cleanit. Then you were off and away; you could do anything.
My BRD symptoms grew worse. Soon I rejected sentences that containedhard words and phrases like "derailleur and bottom bracket",I ignored all bike repair matters until driven to by necessity to addressthem. I once rode for six months on the bare stem from which my pedal hadfractured away until finally, plagued with chronic foot pain, I hobbledto a repair shop. They sold me a new pedal for five bucks, and explainedto me that yes, they could take the bike in and do it for me, but the pedaljust screwed on like a light bulb.
Recently, though, I've changed. I'm not sure why, but I think it hadsomething to do with calm, supportive advice from the co-owners of a particularKensington area bike co-op. They seemed to think it was natural that someonelike me should understand how the bike worked, and they explained thingsI'd never known before.
I started to carry some basic tools like a patch kit, tire irons, airpump, and an adjustable wrench. The adjustable wrench alone seems to covera huge amount of territory. I have now fixed several problems by myself.I have also patched flats for friends who were not so well equipped. Andimagine my sense of bike repair self-worth when, on two occasions, I havebeen able to supply bike couriers with just the tool they needed to fixtheir bikes!
Of course, the path to healthy bike repair attitudes is never smooth.Just when I began to feel really good about inner tubes, an entirely newkind of nozzle was introduced to me that cannot be filled with air at agas station without an adapter. This seemed to be an example of plain cruelty.But, setbacks aside, I find my appetite for bike repair knowledge is growingeach day. Maybe it's just about time to soak that chain in kerosene...
Lily Slain is a Toronto cyclist with abiding gratitude to the guysat Bikes On Wheels. She just bought her very own pedal wrench.
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