What had I done?! Should I not have stood on the pedals? Had I been shifting too fast? Riding was out of the question. Outwardly I was calm, but inside I felt like a baby whose rattle had been taken away - only crankier. Made my obligatory ride to the Upper West via subway, white knuckling it until I could get back home, trundle Lucille into a taxi get her to the Bike Doctor (BFold) on the Lower East Side.
The taxi ride took forever, and I watched with envy and frustration as cyclists passed us on every side. When we arrived, Lucille was taken into the examining room (no room for concerned owners) and when the tech came out he asked if I had been riding over any bumps, since a part was missing. Well of course! I replied; Manhattan streets are nothing but a series of bumps joined together by potholes!
As it turned out though, I had done nothing wrong; there’s been a manufacturing flaw recently, and Lucille was still under warrantee. Within 15 minutes, the part was replaced. She came out looking totally refreshed and off we rode back home.
No time for a real ride today, but I was just glad to have her back.