Case in Point:
After months of not being able to ride my bike, for various reasons over the past couple of years, I decided to bring my bike back to Chattanooga where we were spending most of our time.
Buying a bike rack that would fit the back of Carolyn's SUV, we succeeded in getting it here, and I enjoyed riding the neighborhoods around Harrison, trying to get some exercise into my daily schedule.
The other day, at the beginning of my ride, attempting to shift down to a "let's get up this hill" gear, my chain missed the small sprocket on the front set and lodged between the frame and the chain ring. It was wedged in so tightly that I could not move it at all. Stuck was what it was, and fortunately it happened near the house so I could walk it home.
After much poking and levering and searching for a way or some tool that would help me get that reluctant chain back on the chain ring, I gave up and went to the yellow pages to find a bike shop near me.
I found one that sold my brand. It was near downtown in a new section near the river, and it had expensive repair written all over it.
Nothing to do but bite the bullet and find a person to get me back on track with my exercise program, so I loaded the bike in the pickup, and made sure there was room on the credit card for a pricey fix to take care of my problem.
I like to ride, and some things on the bike I know enough about to fix, but most of the time I find myself at the mercy of the bike technician. They tell me what will fix the problem, and I hand over the plastic. If they suggest something that will make the bike perform better, since it is over 10 years old, I go ahead and fix that also.
I dreaded to take it in to the shop, but there was no choice. I could not use it in its condition.
I did not know the area of the shop, only that it was on the north side of the river near downtown. The Waze app would take me to the address, so I found it with no trouble.
The Trek store was busy with folks looking at new bikes, so I made my way to the middle of the store, to the repair section where I was met by Stephen who asked if I needed any help getting the bike in. After assuring him that I could do that, I went out and took it out of the truck and deposited the non-functioning piece equipment in the repair area, fully expecting to leave it right there for some days.
The problem took Stephen a little time to remedy, but he got it loose and resettled on the right ring.
Then when he asked if there was anything else that did not seem right, I braced for the inevitable "you really could use....." sales pitch .
But what I got was:
"These brakes could use a little adjustment, I'll just tweak them now."
"Let's clean up this chain and let it move easier.."
"Your brake pads will need replacing soon, but we can do that the next time you bring it in."
After a pretty thorough going over and cleaning, he said that was all he saw, and began putting stuff in the computer to prepare the bill.
Uh Oh, here it comes.
After the repair and the going over of the systems on the bike, he gave me a bill for $25.
An Andrew Jackson and an Abe Lincoln was all.
My dread vanished. All I had worried about came to naught.
I was happy, and Stephen had a customer that would not dread coming back.
Trying hard not to appear too gleeful, I paid the bill and took my bike home, smiling all the way.
Now that is the kind of commercial experience I like to have.
No surprises..
No big sales pitch to do more..
Just a smiling person on the other side of the counter who is happy to do an honest job and make sure all my needs were covered.
Then the next day, when I went to ride my newly fixed bike, I realized he had also brought the tires up to riding shape with the correct amount of PSI (pounds per square inch) in each.
An Unfounded Dread and Proud to be Wrong
and Ready for Le Tour in 2020
Just like the good ole days!
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