Misadventures of a DIY bike mechanic

There isn’t one good reason holding him back

Canadian Cycling Magazine November 4, 2017

by James “Cranky” Ramsay

Anyone who knows me well will tell you that I enjoy a good adventure. I’ve been skydiving; I’ve trekked through the African veld on safari in search of lions (my only weapon was a camera and there were no Minnesotan dentists nearby); and I’ve gone for six-hour bike rides with only two water bottles, a past-due energy bar and a stale bagel for sustenance.

So clearly I’m full of courage, or at least that’s how I like to think of myself. Others (present readership excepted, I hope) may describe me as foolhardy, or in modern parlance, just plain foolish. Either way, I never let my own lack of experience, knowledge or native intelligence get in the way of a good adventure.

And as exciting as my safaris and skydiving expeditions have been, nothing compares with the adventures I’ve had wrenching my own bikes. In one of my earliest columns for Canadian Cycling Magazine I wrote about the thrill of accidentally cracking expensive carbon parts by overtightening and the amazing propensity for ball bearings to roll in every direction at once when loosed from their races.

Thus, in search of new frontiers, I’m about to replace the sealed bearings in my power-measuring hub. There are so many ways this could go wrong, I barely know where to begin. But let me try.

Actually, before I do, let’s address the question of why I don’t just send the hub back to the manufacturer to have the job done right. The answers should be clear to anyone: because it takes several weeks; it’s really expensive; and I’d need to pack the hub in bubble wrap and double box it. I’m not really bothered about the timeline, and the cost isn’t actually much of an obstacle. It’s the bubble wrap that’s the problem. I only have a few feet left on the roll, and I need it to wrap the children up every night before bed so they won’t hurt themselves if they fall out and go bump.

Now that that’s out of the way, let’s return to all the ways this could become what young people today refer to as an “epic fail.”

First, we must remember that this is no ordinary hub. It’s a marvel of modern engineering, albeit one with really crunchy bearings that make a loud grinding noise when spun in the hand. Such a complex instrument may not withstand the walloping with a rubber mallet that I may need to administer to remove its component parts.

Second, I’ll be using a bearing extractor, drift punch and bearing press that I recently purchased online (from a reputable manufacturer, I should add). I have absolutely no experience with any of these tools, so it could be argued that I should practise first before unleashing them on my expensive power-measuring hub. Come to think of it, that’s not a bad idea. If anyone wants to send me their own power-measuring hub to practise on, mail it in to Canadian Cycling Magazine and they’ll make sure it reaches me. If I don’t break it, I’ll send it back to you at no charge. I’ll even throw in an autographed copy of my latest vinyl record release, Country Favourites, Cranky Style .

Third, I ordered two replacement bearings that I strongly suspect are the right size for the job. How do I know I have the right ones? I did my research, of course. Someone named Godless_Warlock_7000 had the specs for my hub listed in an Internet forum post from 2003. Call me naive, but I have to believe that if this information was wrong, the people who run the Internet would have removed it by now. After all, it’s been nearly 13 years and it’s still online.

And this brings me to the fourth and most alarming way that this could all end in tears: the instructions I have for doing this complex bit of home mechanics all come from the Internet. Some of these instructions are written descriptions, some are long blog posts with photographs, and some are YouTube videos, which as we all know are fantastically effective at giving people just enough information (and the misplaced confidence) to make very expensive mistakes.

So with all that’s stacked against me, will I reconsider, take the bubble wrap off one of my kids (but how to decide which one?), and ship the thing off to someone who actually knows what they’re doing?

Never. I’d just as soon send someone else to go skydiving for me, or pack a proper lunch the next time I head off on a day-long bike ride. Wish me luck!