The Real Meaning of "Freinds and Family"

Oh, my gosh. Where do I begin? It’s 11:30pm on Saturday, May 12^th and I’m just getting the chance to write this blog entry. If it appears I am not quite lucid, that’s because I’m not. What a day!

After breakfast at Ralph’s Diner we brought my bicycle to TJ’s Bike Shop in Portland, IN for an emergency double spokectomy. It’s a touchy procedure, primarily because it’s on the gear side of the rear tire, and only an experienced bike surgeon should attempt the procedure. Luckily the owner, Mike Miller, was us for the task as soon as they opened. Not only did he fix my spokes and “true” my tire (make t straight again), he replaced my chain which had practically grown a full link longer from the extreme stress I’ve been putting on it. Before I left, he “forced” me to take two additional replacement spokes. (Their picture is on top, and trust me, I really had to twist their arms to take it. They were afraid of damaging the camera lens with their good looks.)

In the meantime, Christa and Terry drove to my brother Jim’s house, where a bunch of my family was waiting. My trip was pretty uneventful, except for the 24 mile per hour winds blasting into my face. All of the American Flags were standing taut and at attention along the way, boosting my patriotism but not my spirits. I can see now how the “dust bowl” occurred in the 1930’s, and I can picture it happening in northern Indiana in the near future.

Just before I reached Van Wert, I heard another spoke “pop” on my the rear tire of my bike. No way, Uncle Charlie! But I had my handy replacement spokes and felt for sure that once I arrived at Jim’s we could fix them and I’d be ready to roll in the morning. As I entered town I realized that I didn’t know how to find Jim and Denise’s house but I wasn’t worried; Christa left me directions on my voice mail. I’m sure they were excellent, but unfortunately I couldn’t catch a cell phone signal to retrieve them. As I stood at the corner of Washington and Euclid, I asked the familiar question that all of us have to ask at the most inopportune times – “What do I do now?” If you haven’t noticed, since the advent of cell phones there are very few pay phones to use in situations like this. Therefore, I walked up to the first house I saw, knocked on the door, and told my sob story to Nicole (the mayor’s granddaughter). I didn’t quite have to turn on the tears before she let me call Jim on the phone. I LOVE small towns! Jim rode his bike out to the main street to meet me, and officially became my first bike escort. Hooray!

When we pulled into Jim and Denise’s driveway, we were greeted by a grand welcoming committee. They included my Mom and Dad, Christa and Terry, Jim and Denise and their daughters Katie and Melissa, and my sister Cathy Keppers and her kids Noah, Austin and Julie. Man, it was awesome to spend the afternoon with them and brought a smile to all of our faces. The kids performed an impromptu piano rectal, We had an all-you-can-eat dinner, complete with baked beans (oh, yeah - more gas power!) and talked and gabbed until into the evening. It was awesome. I must be getting close to home!

Cathy is cycling with me tomorrow to Sturgis, Michigan. She bought a new road bike and is psyched up; so am I! It will be great having her company, but first I had to fix my bike. Once again, the broken spoke was on the dreaded gear side of the rear tire. This time, I felt prepared to fix it. Mike at T.J.’s explained how to repair spokes, and with the extra spokes on hand, nothing could stop me. Until I unscrewed the rear axle and ball bearing started pouring out of it! Dag nab it, I lost that feeling of invincibility quicker than you can eat a “Big Juan.”

The Van Wert Bicycle Shop is closed until Tuesday, and I started to think I was in for a long delay, until Denise mentioned that the owner went to her church. HOLY COW! Call up Herr Reinemeyer! We have a bicycle emergency here! Denise called his sister’s until she got Herr Reinemeyer’s top secret phone number. Even though tomorrow is Mothers Day, he agreed to meet us at his shop at 8am tomorrow morning to fix my spokes. With the assistance of family and their good friends, it looked like I could be on the road again tomorrow. If I could get those ball bearing repacked into my axle…….

This is where my brother Jim came in. He called up his buddy Mike Roop, who earlier in the day tried unsuccessfully to locate me while riding his Harley. Ah, but we were destined to meet, weren’t we? His expertise is packing ball bearings, and his price was steep – I had to tell him the gory details about when I made the front page by blowing up a gas station in Lake Orion. It was worth it, Jim and I had no idea what we were doing. Here is a picture of Mike and his son Isaac, with my brother Jim. He has an uncanny resemblance to ZZ Top, wouldn’t you say?

I’m wasted now, and even though Christa is snoring next to me, I’ll be out like a light in no time. Cathy and I have a big day tomorrow, so I’d better get my beauty sleep. As you can tell, I really need it.