I ride my bike nearly every day in the summer. Lately my pedal crank has been sounding a little funky. I figured the bearings are probably shot and it might be time to start looking at taking it in. I figured I'd put it off until after July 4th before I went on a trip.
So I'm out biking the trail today and the crank didn't seem to be making noise like it did. It healed itself, I thought. I love it when that happens.
Well, at some point when I'd gone 3.8 miles I turned around. A couple tenths of a mile later, I noticed my crank looked like it was unscrewing from the frame. Maybe it's supposed to look like that, I thought. I'll nurse it home just in case.
Then, for some reason my bike shifted to the smaller front sprocket. By itself. When I tried to correct it it made a racket. At this point the only sprocket that worked was the middle one. When I thought about why the highest gear now fit around the middle sprocket, the fact that the crank was pushing everything to my right made sense.
Well, soon enough everything jammed and I couldn't pedal at all.
Of course it was 3.5 miles from home, because these things never happen in your driveway.
So I started walking with my bike. Several bikers rode by without stopping, which is fine, because I'm a stubborn, stoic Swede and I don't need any help, thank you very much.
After walking for a quarter mile I thought maybe I could stride the bike like a bike with no pedals. So I did. I got the bike up to about 8 MPH for most of the time. But let me tell you, it's not the most efficient way to travel. Plus it tends to hammer on your nether regions, if you know what I'm saying. It truly is why God made pedals, to allow us to one day procreate.
So I strode away looking like a weirdo. At street crossings I walked it because I didn't want to look like a complete dork. But let me tell you it totally beat walking. I'd still be out there walking if I hadn't of resorted to it.
Well, about 1/2 a mile from home a friend drove past and asked if I needed a ride. Luckily he had a pickup truck so I threw it in the back and he gave me a ride the rest of the way home. It was a lifesaver because I was pretty gassed at that point. Not to mention I looked like Fred Flippin' Flintstone on a bike.
We all have our bad days.