Campagnolo Detonated

Somewhere on Gap road, on Saturday, the upper pulley bolt on my Record rear derailleur backed out- boom. Game over, 30 miles from home.

I wish I had my camera. Although I didn't get a picture, I did have my cell phone, which I used to call everyone in my address book with a) a car and b) a possibility of being in-town at noon on a Saturday. Which was, well, almost no-one. I guess friends who ride bikes are pretty unreliable when it comes to sitting on your ass on a weekend, waiting for an SOS.

So I got through to Brooke, who was only on her ass because she messed her back up and could not really leave the couch. Thanks, Brooke!

And especially thanks to the kindly retired couple who picked me up on their way into Springfield and dropped me off right off I-5, while I got grease and dirt all over their back seat and placed desperate phone calls for 20 minutes.