I noticed an odd cadence-like ticking on yesterday’s downtown ride with Susan and thought it might be time for a new bottom bracket, but after rolling through the rain to work this morning (in a record 50 minutes, by the way) little did I realize the danger until the last quarter mile when the angle of the pedals’ rotation changed dramatically. I rode slowly the rest of the way to the office and once there I found this compound fracture where the seat tube and the down tube converge upon the bottom bracket.
As such my blessed and beloved friend of some two-years and almost 5,000 miles had traveled her last — but had somehow heroically managed to stay together enough not to send me to injury or worse upon the roadway.
To say I am in mourning is about as understated as it gets, and remembering our beginning just makes it all the more painful.
Rest in peace, old friend.