There were less than 2 days to go before I had to get all my worldly posessions onto a plane to fly back to the US. I couldn't put it off anymore, so I went to Mailboxes, Etc. (yes there are some here in Spain, and they old name has managed to survive the UPS takeover) and got 8 meters of bubble wrap (about 26.2 feet, I didn't do that on purpose).
When Shane was here he'd happened upon a huge box in the street and carried it the 6+ blocks to my house. Upon inspection he said, "Once you take the wheels, pedals, handlebars and downfork off it'll fit perfectly!" Shane builds his own bikes from parts that he buys on ebay and knows how these things work. I am not as mechanically gifted, I have problems with pencil sharpeners. I'd taken off my seatpost before, adjusted my handlebars, gotten my wheels off all by myself, and even seen someone changing a pedal; but that fork thing I wasn't so sure about. I thought, It doesn't add that much more length, I can just leave it on. In typical me fashion I didn't ASK how to take the fork off. I think that's called hubris.
The wheels came off with relatively little effort. The quick release levers put up a little fight and I realized that the open/close lever on my front brakes had been open for God knows how long (probably why my brakes weren't working), but I was off to a good start.
Next the seat post. Came right off with a little help from my handy, dandy bike tool. I'm an ace.
Now for the handlebars. I opened the little screws on the front of the bike and pulled off the handlebars. But the brake and gear cables were still attached to the bike, so they just kind of hung there looking kind of grotesque. Hm, I hadn't thought of that. I decided to just tuck them back against the frame. I knew better than to fuck with cables.
Next, the pedals. I examined the pedals and the crank arm until I found the little screw on the
inside of the crank arm that releases the pedals. It took me awhile to find the size allen wrench that fit in perfectly. I stuck the wrench in the little eyelet and pushed. Nothing happened. I pushed even harder and the pedal swung away from me. I braced the pedal with my leg and pushed as hard as I could. The whole frame skidded across the floor. I kept trying to push, occasionally having the allen wrench slip out of its spot and occasionally pausing to look for a different screw to get this damn thing off. I tried the other pedal, same deal. I went and found some WD40 and sprayed the screw like I had a grudge, but to no avail.
Finally I called Silvia. She told me where the tools were kept (9 months living here, and I'd never so much as needed a screw driver!) and I found a standard allen wrench of the right size. "You don't know any boys, do you?"
"What?"
"You know, guys? With big strong hands?"
"No."
"Me neither." This gave me pause, perhaps I am missing something with my preferred lifestyle.
I went back to the bike and spent several more minutes fighting the pedals with my whole body, legs holding bike in place, shin bracing crank arm, and anything above that pressing every ounce of my strength onto that damn allen wrench. I paused to gather my composure. Okay, Claire, I says to myself I says, Okay Claire, you are going to put every ounce of your strength into that allen wrench and it is going to turn. I visualized it turning, then I checked my body position to make sure nothing was going to slip mid-attack, and pushed like my life depended on it. Finally the screw ceded! I rejoyced, filled with self confidence. I believed I could get off that second pedal. I set to work pushing with all my might on the second screw. I was a little scared of the sharp teeth of my chain ring menacing to slice my fingers open if I slipped, but I was lucky. After several minutes and trying several different bike and body positions I heaved a giant grunt and something moved! I thought I'd gotten it past that first big umph and now I just had to twirl it out. I tried to line up the allen wrench in its place again, but it kept falling out. Upon closer inspection of the tip of the tool I saw that my sheer superhuman strength had seared the little corners off the metal. The pedal had BROKEN the allen wrench. ("Allen" seems to be a bad luck word for me this week).
Fuck it, I thought and went to see if the bike would fit in the box with one pedal on. It left a friction dent in the card board, but I could make it fit. I tucked the handlebars (as you will remember were hanging by a thread) under my top tube and pushed it all the way down into the box. Just like Shane said, the damn fork was peeking several inches out of the top of the box. Dammit, how do you take the fork off?
I took a couple of screws out of the handlebar stem and pulled. Nothing happened. I tried pushing. Nothing. I looked for more screws all along the stem. Nope. I turned over the bike. There was a screw that went all the way through holding my brake release in place. That's it! I said, and took out the screw, washer, casing, and all kinds of other things I don't know the name
of. The brakes hung down limp like the handlebars. Push, nothing. Pull, nothing. What the FUCK?! I wanted to call Shane but it was only 2:00 am in California, too early, so I went on the internet. I read God-knows-what about using a rubber mallet, which didn't sound too wise to me. Then I read something that said that that little disk at the top of my steering column would come off.
(Mine looks a bit different from the picture, it as a little nipple-like circle in the middle and is slightly raised from the ring-thingys with the screws). Eureka!
So I went back to try to get that thing off. It wouldn't be easy, so I took a screw driver. I tried twisting it, nope. I tried prying it up with a screw driver. I tried shoving the screw driver in the little ring-y thing and pushing it up from underneath. I was so frustrated. I don't know what made me focus my attention on the nipple. I thought it was just there for decoration, but just out of curiosity I poked it with the screwdriver, then I prodded and pried underneath and the most amazing thing happened, it came off and there was a SCREW underneath!!! I felt like I'd discovered burried treasure. I unscrewed the screw and the fork finally came off with a whoe bunch of little pieces (including a steering thing with ball bearings that I was afraid to touch). It seemed like it was covered with more vasaline than a triathlete trying to fit into a too-small wetsuit, but it was OUT! I put back all the little pieces of the steering column and took a break for lunch.
The next step was, as Benson had suggested, getting some bubble wrap and packing tape and going to town. I wrapped up each individual piece in about 2 layers of bubble wrap and closed it up tight with the tape. The frame was hard, especialy bubblewraping the gears and that one damn pedal sticking out, but in the end I got it bubbled up.
For some extra protection I planned to mummify my frame and cover every inch with packing tape. This also seemed like a good idea since the bubble wrap was adding width and I wanted to compress every millimeter that I could. I would be a really bad candidate for an engineering degree, I know. When I finished my bike looked like a giant sting ray.
Please fit, please fit, please fit! It did! I was so excited! I was celebrating my victory and throwing saddles and forks and all sorts of things in the empty slots when I turned around and saw... SHIT! THE WHEELS! I had no bubble wrap left, but I stuck them in just to see if they would fit. Not a snowball's chance in hell. I took off the tires and tubes, but they were still sticking 6 inches out of the top of the box. I wanted to cry. I wanted a beer. I needed more bubble wrap.
After buying the bubble wrap I stopped in at a bike shop to see if they could sell me a bigger box. "Do you have a box that's bigger than 96x74x25?" I asked. The guy showed me the boxes that he had. They were long, sleek, and WAY narrower than my box. "I need something wider," I explained, I couldn't get one of the pedals off and now it's wrapped in about 6 meters of bubble wrap and packing tape."
"You know the left pedal screws off backwards right?" he said. "So that it doesn't come loose while you're pedaling." There are no words for how I felt after that. Stupid? Frustrated? Angry? All of those and then some. Why didn't I just pay someone to do this for me?
"Well anway, the handlebars are thick too," I defended. I explained that they drop bars were sticking off a bit in one direction while the brake hoods stuck out almost as far as the pedal in the other direction.
'What did you do?" He seemed confused. "Well you just need to turn the handlebars all the way to the right and then lower the angle so they fit around your top tube."
"Well I took off the downfork, so it should be even more compact..." I tried to explain.
"You did what?!" It was like I'd told him I'd sawed the thing in half. "Here, let me show you how we pack our bikes." He whipped out a box cutter and opened up a brand new bike. There it was, with the fork still on, handlebars still on (arranged like a U, not in a C like mine), back wheel still on, and the front wheel, seat, and pedals stuglled comfortably along side. It was like watching my own death, looking my own stupidity in the face like that. My heart sank and I promised myself I would never, ever try to figure something out on my own again for as long as I live. I didn't know whether to buy a separate box for my wheels or what. I decided not to think about it any more today.
The next day I wrapped up the wheels and stared at the box sullenly. Then I set to trying all possible wheel-frame combinations. Just when i thought I'd tried everything, I finally found a way to get both wheels in on the bottom and then shove the frame in. I may have killed a couple of spokes, but it fit! Well, sort of... the box was bowing pretty heavily, but it was in there and I could close it! There was even room for my pump!
I stuffed crumpled up newspaper into all the little nooks and crannies to keep stuff from moving around too much. The only thing left to do was to close up the box. The industrial staples were giving in several places and the top wasn't squarely closed, so I thought the safest bet would be to mummify the whole thing like I had the frame. The end result (finished only 3 hours before I had to wake up for my flight) was this:
(Coke can added for size comparison)
When Shane was here he'd happened upon a huge box in the street and carried it the 6+ blocks to my house. Upon inspection he said, "Once you take the wheels, pedals, handlebars and downfork off it'll fit perfectly!" Shane builds his own bikes from parts that he buys on ebay and knows how these things work. I am not as mechanically gifted, I have problems with pencil sharpeners. I'd taken off my seatpost before, adjusted my handlebars, gotten my wheels off all by myself, and even seen someone changing a pedal; but that fork thing I wasn't so sure about. I thought, It doesn't add that much more length, I can just leave it on. In typical me fashion I didn't ASK how to take the fork off. I think that's called hubris.
The wheels came off with relatively little effort. The quick release levers put up a little fight and I realized that the open/close lever on my front brakes had been open for God knows how long (probably why my brakes weren't working), but I was off to a good start.
Next the seat post. Came right off with a little help from my handy, dandy bike tool. I'm an ace.
Now for the handlebars. I opened the little screws on the front of the bike and pulled off the handlebars. But the brake and gear cables were still attached to the bike, so they just kind of hung there looking kind of grotesque. Hm, I hadn't thought of that. I decided to just tuck them back against the frame. I knew better than to fuck with cables.
Next, the pedals. I examined the pedals and the crank arm until I found the little screw on the
inside of the crank arm that releases the pedals. It took me awhile to find the size allen wrench that fit in perfectly. I stuck the wrench in the little eyelet and pushed. Nothing happened. I pushed even harder and the pedal swung away from me. I braced the pedal with my leg and pushed as hard as I could. The whole frame skidded across the floor. I kept trying to push, occasionally having the allen wrench slip out of its spot and occasionally pausing to look for a different screw to get this damn thing off. I tried the other pedal, same deal. I went and found some WD40 and sprayed the screw like I had a grudge, but to no avail.Finally I called Silvia. She told me where the tools were kept (9 months living here, and I'd never so much as needed a screw driver!) and I found a standard allen wrench of the right size. "You don't know any boys, do you?"
"What?"
"You know, guys? With big strong hands?"
"No."
"Me neither." This gave me pause, perhaps I am missing something with my preferred lifestyle.
I went back to the bike and spent several more minutes fighting the pedals with my whole body, legs holding bike in place, shin bracing crank arm, and anything above that pressing every ounce of my strength onto that damn allen wrench. I paused to gather my composure. Okay, Claire, I says to myself I says, Okay Claire, you are going to put every ounce of your strength into that allen wrench and it is going to turn. I visualized it turning, then I checked my body position to make sure nothing was going to slip mid-attack, and pushed like my life depended on it. Finally the screw ceded! I rejoyced, filled with self confidence. I believed I could get off that second pedal. I set to work pushing with all my might on the second screw. I was a little scared of the sharp teeth of my chain ring menacing to slice my fingers open if I slipped, but I was lucky. After several minutes and trying several different bike and body positions I heaved a giant grunt and something moved! I thought I'd gotten it past that first big umph and now I just had to twirl it out. I tried to line up the allen wrench in its place again, but it kept falling out. Upon closer inspection of the tip of the tool I saw that my sheer superhuman strength had seared the little corners off the metal. The pedal had BROKEN the allen wrench. ("Allen" seems to be a bad luck word for me this week).
Fuck it, I thought and went to see if the bike would fit in the box with one pedal on. It left a friction dent in the card board, but I could make it fit. I tucked the handlebars (as you will remember were hanging by a thread) under my top tube and pushed it all the way down into the box. Just like Shane said, the damn fork was peeking several inches out of the top of the box. Dammit, how do you take the fork off?
I took a couple of screws out of the handlebar stem and pulled. Nothing happened. I tried pushing. Nothing. I looked for more screws all along the stem. Nope. I turned over the bike. There was a screw that went all the way through holding my brake release in place. That's it! I said, and took out the screw, washer, casing, and all kinds of other things I don't know the name
of. The brakes hung down limp like the handlebars. Push, nothing. Pull, nothing. What the FUCK?! I wanted to call Shane but it was only 2:00 am in California, too early, so I went on the internet. I read God-knows-what about using a rubber mallet, which didn't sound too wise to me. Then I read something that said that that little disk at the top of my steering column would come off.(Mine looks a bit different from the picture, it as a little nipple-like circle in the middle and is slightly raised from the ring-thingys with the screws). Eureka!
So I went back to try to get that thing off. It wouldn't be easy, so I took a screw driver. I tried twisting it, nope. I tried prying it up with a screw driver. I tried shoving the screw driver in the little ring-y thing and pushing it up from underneath. I was so frustrated. I don't know what made me focus my attention on the nipple. I thought it was just there for decoration, but just out of curiosity I poked it with the screwdriver, then I prodded and pried underneath and the most amazing thing happened, it came off and there was a SCREW underneath!!! I felt like I'd discovered burried treasure. I unscrewed the screw and the fork finally came off with a whoe bunch of little pieces (including a steering thing with ball bearings that I was afraid to touch). It seemed like it was covered with more vasaline than a triathlete trying to fit into a too-small wetsuit, but it was OUT! I put back all the little pieces of the steering column and took a break for lunch.
The next step was, as Benson had suggested, getting some bubble wrap and packing tape and going to town. I wrapped up each individual piece in about 2 layers of bubble wrap and closed it up tight with the tape. The frame was hard, especialy bubblewraping the gears and that one damn pedal sticking out, but in the end I got it bubbled up.
For some extra protection I planned to mummify my frame and cover every inch with packing tape. This also seemed like a good idea since the bubble wrap was adding width and I wanted to compress every millimeter that I could. I would be a really bad candidate for an engineering degree, I know. When I finished my bike looked like a giant sting ray.
Please fit, please fit, please fit! It did! I was so excited! I was celebrating my victory and throwing saddles and forks and all sorts of things in the empty slots when I turned around and saw... SHIT! THE WHEELS! I had no bubble wrap left, but I stuck them in just to see if they would fit. Not a snowball's chance in hell. I took off the tires and tubes, but they were still sticking 6 inches out of the top of the box. I wanted to cry. I wanted a beer. I needed more bubble wrap.After buying the bubble wrap I stopped in at a bike shop to see if they could sell me a bigger box. "Do you have a box that's bigger than 96x74x25?" I asked. The guy showed me the boxes that he had. They were long, sleek, and WAY narrower than my box. "I need something wider," I explained, I couldn't get one of the pedals off and now it's wrapped in about 6 meters of bubble wrap and packing tape."
"You know the left pedal screws off backwards right?" he said. "So that it doesn't come loose while you're pedaling." There are no words for how I felt after that. Stupid? Frustrated? Angry? All of those and then some. Why didn't I just pay someone to do this for me?
"Well anway, the handlebars are thick too," I defended. I explained that they drop bars were sticking off a bit in one direction while the brake hoods stuck out almost as far as the pedal in the other direction.
'What did you do?" He seemed confused. "Well you just need to turn the handlebars all the way to the right and then lower the angle so they fit around your top tube."
"Well I took off the downfork, so it should be even more compact..." I tried to explain.
"You did what?!" It was like I'd told him I'd sawed the thing in half. "Here, let me show you how we pack our bikes." He whipped out a box cutter and opened up a brand new bike. There it was, with the fork still on, handlebars still on (arranged like a U, not in a C like mine), back wheel still on, and the front wheel, seat, and pedals stuglled comfortably along side. It was like watching my own death, looking my own stupidity in the face like that. My heart sank and I promised myself I would never, ever try to figure something out on my own again for as long as I live. I didn't know whether to buy a separate box for my wheels or what. I decided not to think about it any more today.
The next day I wrapped up the wheels and stared at the box sullenly. Then I set to trying all possible wheel-frame combinations. Just when i thought I'd tried everything, I finally found a way to get both wheels in on the bottom and then shove the frame in. I may have killed a couple of spokes, but it fit! Well, sort of... the box was bowing pretty heavily, but it was in there and I could close it! There was even room for my pump!
I stuffed crumpled up newspaper into all the little nooks and crannies to keep stuff from moving around too much. The only thing left to do was to close up the box. The industrial staples were giving in several places and the top wasn't squarely closed, so I thought the safest bet would be to mummify the whole thing like I had the frame. The end result (finished only 3 hours before I had to wake up for my flight) was this:
(Coke can added for size comparison)It took some six hours or more when all was said and done, but I packed up my bike ALL by myself. I might even rebuild it myself, but I think I'll let a mechanic take a good hard look at it before I try to ride anywhere!
7 comments:
I think getting the mechanics once over is a real good plan but other than that it looks like the experience might have turned you into a bit of a handy bike chick. You'll probably be making your own tri-bike soon.
Good luck with the traveling home, I hope they don't want to give it a once over in customs now you've taped it up so securely.
May I suggest that you have a professional put the bike back together? I'm not trying to discount your mechanical skillz, but I wouldn't take the risk of doing my bike myself after a similar ordeal.
I hope Homeland Security treats you well.
Have a safe trip home!
I have to tell you it was pretty painful for me to read this post. You really do have a unique way of packing a bike in a box not really made for a bike. Kinda like the old "square peg in a round hole" thing.
But you did it. Sweet.
Hope your travels are great.
My GAWD. And I thought packing handhelds, shoes, shorts,socks and shirts was a pain.
Hope your trip is/was a safe one!
Have a safe trip...hopefully you won't get searched coming through customs....although since I tend to be running behind the eight ball due to class work...you'll probably be state side when you read this...so to prepare for that senarion Welcome Home! and yes to answer the big question the Red Sox still suck.
Oh, my GOD!!
You should've emailed me. You could've saved so much time and effort Oh well, you always approach things the hard way. That's my Claire...
Lola
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