This morning my bike took me to work, instead of me taking it to work. It sailed up and over the hills. It got impatient with stupid, slow, lumbering cars at stop lights.

I think it was happy that I overhauled its bottom bracket on Sunday for the first time in its 25 years of life. The poor thing was dry as a bone... The cups are all pitted.

click...click...clickclick.....KLANG! going up a hill.

Ouch!

It's much happier now with new bearings and packed with grease...

Two weeks ago I overhauled the pedals too, thinking that's where the noise was coming from. I love using tools! A bike shop mechanic sounds like an idyllic job, but that guy at City Bikes (Connecticut Ave at the Capital Crescent trail) on Sunday was not relaxed. He did have the harried, caffeine-overdose look to go with the manic rave music thumping in the background though.

My dear wife bought me a bike maintenance book for my birthday 2 months ago. Why'd I never think of that? Now I have money to buy real tools like a crankarm extractor, instead of hacking at it with a hammer and screwdriver like I did when I was a broke teenager...