Bike Breakdown

The rest day left me in great spirits this morning and I headed off on rt 128. This beautiful, lightly traveled road offers rolling hills not as punishing as those experienced in the last few days. The wildlife encroaches on the road with deer resting in thick brush next to the road. More than once, as my bike silently slid through the forest, I would startle (and was, in turn, startled by) a well-camouflaged deer that would noisily bolt from a distance sometimes not more than 5 or 10 feet from my bike.

Unfortunately, just short of Boonville, my chain jammed on a big hill and got horribly bent out of shape when I tried to extricate it. After that, the bike was useless on the hills, spontaneously skipping and changing gears back and forth every revolution of the twisted chain. Surgery was called for, but I needed an operating room. Bill (a Harley riding grandfather and part time Wilderness Man Camp counselor) and Pete (his young ward, visiting from DC) stopped and gave me a lift into town. On the stoop of the general store, I operated: After 3 hours of surgery, the patient survived with 3 new links.