Zen and the Art of Bicycle Maintenance

March 15, 2024 by kyle In photography, While Out Riding 2 Comments

I did some work on my mountain bike earlier this week. It went as it usually does: one step back and arguably one and a half steps forward.

I wanted to swap out my “tear down the mountain” handlebars for a Jones H-bar set that were more laid back and suited for bikepacking. My dad offered to help, and we set to work taking the shifters and brakes off the existing handlebars (dropping and, thankfully, finding many bolts and nuts in the process). We also managed to get the grips on the new handlebars, which turned out to be a difficult, manual process since we didn’t have the right extended for the air compressor (who knew you could use an air compressor to install handlebar grips? Certainly not me). All good so far.

But our modest success was short-lived. After removing the handlebars, we realized the new ones wouldn’t fit the existing stem. Not only was the diameter of the new handlebars different, but the shape also appeared to be different. It was more…ovally? Maybe I’m mistaken about the shape, but one way or another the handlebars definitely weren’t going to fit.

After discussing options (buy a new stem, look for some kind of stem handlebar shim, etc.), we begrudgingly put the old handlebars back on. One step back, one step forward. Right back to the beginning.

Thankfully, we did have one more successful result after the handlebar disappointment. We moved the rack I had on the back of the bike to the front. This sounds like a straightforward task, but it was complicated by the fact that my mountain bike has a suspension fork, so we needed to install a custom thru-axel that connected to and would bear the load of the rack. We also needed to install these puck-things (a technical term) to the suspension fork via zip-ties. The rack’s extenders are then connected to these puck-things to stabilize the rack. This probably should have taken about 15 minutes, but I think it took us an hour.

One half-step forward. Ok, maybe I’ll count that as a full step forward.

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Working on my bike always seems to go this way. I aspire to be good at mechanical things. I visualize myself methodically working through mechanical issues. Calm and focused, making steady progress. But Robert Pirsig I am not, and my bicycle maintenance couples with curses far more often than it comes with zen.

I’ve been thinking a lot about developing new skills recently. As life changes and careers progress, we continuously confront new challenges that require new skills. I love this about life! I have “aspiring polymath” (emphasis on aspiring) in my Twitter bio, and Kaizen is something of a personal motto. And yet, despite having many opportunities to improve at mechanical…stuff (see, I don’t even know what the right word is here to use instead of “stuff”…that’s how little I know), I never have.

Is this because I have some kind of hard, very low ceiling to my mechanical aptitude? Or is it because I’ve never dedicated myself to the learning process? Perhaps I’ve expected to learn naturally as I stumble my way through issues rather than investing the time and energy to deliberately and methodically learn. Something to ponder.