You go into these events knowing you have skills, but you only really realize them when others are in trouble…
I wouldn’t call myself a full-fledged bike mechanic, especially in today’s age of electronic gears and disc brakes. I am more old school, gear cables and rim brakes.
I don’t know who spread the word, but at one stage I had a queue of PBP participants looking for last-minute adjustments. They ranged from putting on tight tubeless tires to straightening brake discs. Trevor Costello was the opposition, 20k away in some tree motel in the middle of nowhere…
The rest of the Connacht crew got a great laugh when someone new called over to get something fixed. They decided to set up shop and get payment for something or other for my services… Nice of them… Anyway, they decided that the after-party niceties were the way to go, so clients dropped off beer and wine for services rendered… all unawares to me… Who needs enemies when you’ve got friends like this…
My skills were tested, especially with limited tools and no workshop. One Italian guy had bad back troubles before the event; he asked me to have a look at his setup. Christ, I felt his pain and I didn’t even sit on his bike. The saddle pointed up, and the handlebars were down… After the event, he was delighted and dropped over a crate of beer. He was so happy.
Anyway, Mary got worried. She felt I was spending too much time fixing bikes and helping others, which was compromising my event. She was right. I needed to get lost, and that I did. It’s easy to get caught up in everyone else’s problems and not focus on the task that was supposed to be my priority…
I called back later and told the guys no more fixing, time to focus. That was until about 4 pm when a German dude came screaming through our campsite area, “Can anyone help me? I need a specialist tool that no one has…” The boys quickly pointed him to me. I looked at his problem, a loose brake disc with an unusual fixing screw. “Can you help?” he muttered in a panic, sweat dripping from his chin and his face all red. “Yeah, no problem, man,” I said. I headed to the back of my 18-year-old campervan. You don’t bring a vehicle like that to France without tools… I have done many a journey, the full coastline and the centre of Australia in a 1978 Ford Falcon, and I knew there is only one tool that covers everything… Wasn’t I the proud boy when I took out my old fellas 20-year-old Vise-Grips… You would want to see the look on the German fella’s face… Priceless… He muttered, “You can’t use that tool on my beautiful bike…” “Right,” I said, “when are you starting?” He replied, “15 minutes time.” “Well, do you want to start?” He replied, “Yes.” Then I took his bike like a skilled surgeon, and I had the wheel off and the disc tightened before he knew what hit him… All I know is he left pale, but he did thank me, I think… To be honest, I didn’t get a good look at his bike, but the lads reckon it was at least 12 grand’s worth, especially with the lightweight wheels and Dura-Ace DI2… As a good friend of mine says, “If you have the tools, you will get the work…”
