Today I took my bicycle to a repair shop. One of the spokes in the back wheel was broken, and this is not the first time. In fact, I have had the wheel repaired five or six times already, as spokes are breaking one after another.
Once six spokes were broken at the same time, all near the rim. And when I checked the bicycle just before leaving it at the repair shop I found another broken spoke. Well, at some point all the spokes will have been replaced with new ones.
All these problems appeared after I had the gear hub replaced in the bicycle. Something was wrong about the repair, but as I don't have any idea how the spokes should be, I can't say what is the cause for the problems.
Somehow the curled dry leaves in the photograph match how I feel right now.
(Posting title is from the poem Hunting Manual by Eleanor Wilner.)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment