|Damn you, chainsuck!|
After giving myself a couple of days to recover from the anguish, I knew I had to look at it again, assess the damage, and push forth with some sort of treatment. You see, the Hunqapillar frame is made from fine quality steel. Fine quality steel provides a wonderful strength, durability, and ride quality that help make the Hunqapillar the amazing bike it is. However fine the quality, though, steel is still steel ... and what does bare steel do when exposed to the elements? That's right ... it rusts. So, to prevent such a calamity, fine quality steel must be covered with a protective coating of paint or powder coat. The Hunqapillar is hand-painted, and an excellent job was done on my frame. I didn't want even the slightest possibility of any scratches to open up the steel to oxidation, especially since I ride near the ocean virtually every day.
So, after sobbing one last time in a fetal position on the garage floor, I picked myself up and begged my better and more attractive half to accompany me to the local hardware store. She had things to get, too ... and our only car belongs to her, since I sold mine to be like David Byrne, who rides bikes but does not own a car (photo courtesy of Bike Snob NYC).
|According to Bike Snob NYC, this man does not own a car|
The hardware store had a small selection of rust-preventive enamel paints, including one that was labeled "Medium Gray", so I grabbed a tiny can of that, along with a set of artist brushes to apply it.
|Yeah, that's right ... I'm gettin' ready to get artistic and stuff|
Well, after sending my better and more attractive half off to the office with a nice snack of organic oatmeal with greek yogurt and blueberries, and providing the hungry dogs with food and a nice walk, I set out to the garage with my paint and brushes to tackle the task at hand ... touching up the Hunqapillar scratches with some rust-preventive paint. I selected a brush, opened the can of paint, stirred well, sobbed one more time while looking at the scratches, and was ready to begin.
|My chosen brush and nice shade of medium gray ... stirred, not shaken|
|After touch-up. Paint always dries darker, right?|
Usually with scars, there's some kind of interesting story of an epic event to accompany them. Although I've documented my epic chainsuck incident, I think if anyone asks, I'll offer a more exciting tale ... something like this:
"While riding along the trail one hot summer day, I spotted a crazy bobcat who began to chase me.
|No, not this kind of bobcat ...|
|Yeah ... THIS kind of bobcat!! Look at his crazy eyes ...|
I sped up, pedaling as fast as I could around the curve of the trail, heading toward the creek where I knew the bobcat wouldn't follow. He was gaining on me, but I raced on. I could see that he was eyeing my possum wool socks, thinking they might be small animals attached to my ankles, making a nice mid-day meal. Just as he was about to attack, I lifted the handlebars as I shot out over the creek to safety. The bobcat managed to get one razor-sharp set of claws out to my leg, but missed and instead clawed the chainstay of my bike, which resulted in the scratches you now see. I made it safely away on the other side of the creek, but my bike bears the scars of that close call."
Yeah ... that's the ticket ...
See you next time!