I have been ignoring my bike the last few days and noticed just after breakfast that the chain is starting to rust. What the fuck is wrong is with me? The shifting is slightly off because the cables are frayed, the brakes are loose, my rims are filthy and certain parts are squeaking when I am riding. This is embarrassing and I must take care of this immediately. I hope on the Specialized Sirrus Sport of fate and ride over to Kent St. to the City Bike Depot. Once there I tell the younger guy exactly what I need and it seems as though I know more about bikes than he does. I grab 2 new shifter cables and 5 feet of housing. What upsets me is that it is SRAM brand and I prefer Jagwire, although I have heard for cables and housing it doesn’t really matter. Once I have cut the cable I will need pharules to attach to end of the cable to prevent fraying. This is most likely the reason why my cables frayed in the first place since when I got this bike only a few ago there were none, but I just ignored it. When I the kid gives me the total investment for the parts I am shocked: $28. The cables are each $6.75 and the housing is $2.50 per foot. They even charge me $1 for each pharule. In Toronto, cables will run at 2 CAD each MAX, housing is 2 CAD per foot MAX and they give you pharules for free. What a joke, I was going to grab lubricant here, but it is $16 for some random brand and not even Tri-Flo. I guess I will just have to find a hardware store and grab good ole WD40. I ask the kid where one is and he has no clue, but the other guy at the store gives me very good directions to find a place. Once I get there the WD40 is $9, but there is almost triple the amount and I trust the brand more than some random Aussie lube.
My chain squeaks as I pull up to the Bounce. I go upstairs and grab m tool bag as well as my only facecloth which I will use to clean all the dirt off on my bike. In front of the hostel I bust out the tools and begin to take off the shifter cables and housing. This requires me to cut the frayed cables off using my cable cutting shears, as well as shifting my front gear to the lowest cog and my back shifter to the highest cog. Once I remove the cables from the housing, I notice that the housing doesn’t need to be replaced after all and only has to be snipped about half an inch on each side. The end of the housing is protruding because the holes on the caps have become too wide and the tension has caused the wire inside the housing to come out. Luckily enough, I have 4 or 5 end caps in my tool bag, although I only need 2. After carefully lubricating the housing, I run the cables from the shifters through the housing that I have now reattached. Using my small pair of vice grips, I apply as much tension on the cables as possible in order to allow it to shift properly. The screw that grips the cable requires a 5mm hexagonal allan-key and it is quite difficult to apply tension on the cable while tightening the screw clockwise. It takes me a couple of tries and minor adjustments to allow the gears to shift properly. Once both the front and back shifters are gearing up and down to my standard, I cut the cables and attach the pharules.
While I am cleaning the rims and the frame, guess who comes by to annoy me: none other than Patches, my former Irish roommate of doom. “Noice boike gobshoite!”, he declares as he walks by. I choose to ignore him, but notice that he has no shirt on and is with about 10+ other people. Now he stops and repeats himself a bit louder, “I said… NOICE BOIKE YE GOBSHOITE!!!” I look him in the eyes, then at his friends, then his girl and then go back to cleaning. He picks up my FIlzer allan-key set. Now he has done it, pushed my hot button. I stop cleaning and grab it out of his hands. His girl now tells him to stop and recognize her only because she works at the front desk, and I have never actually seen her before since he crafted a little fort (what a fag) around his bed so no light could penetrate…he is Irish and they burn easily. For some reason, he puts his shirt on and now starts yelling profanities that I can’t understand and aren’t worth repeating. His girl is holding him back and I decide to bust out yet another classic line, “Wow, you are really trying HARD to impress your friends…” I turn to his friends, “…is it working guys are you impressed because I know I am!” 180° back turn to them and I start cleaning my bike again. Now he is really mad and I don’t think I have ever seen someone turn so red. His friends find me funny as his girl defuses the situation and calms him down. Poof...they leave. My tooling skills are getting quite good.
(I love how at the end of this video Jamie gets the dudes name wrong on purpose)
I want to test out my refurbished ride so I hop on Sirrus and take Oxford St. towards Bondi beach. The streets are pretty empty for a Saturday, but the beach is very busy. They are surfer dudes everywhere and tourists taking pictures of the never ending blue sky. There isn’t a single cloud in the sky today and I can see that people are taking full advantage of the nice weather on the beach. There are some firefighter women dancing around on the beach too while one of them drums away on some bongos, trying to raise money for some local charity. An old New South Wales fire engine from 1928 sits feet away from the dancers and appears to have been perfectly restored. After reapplying sunscreen, so I don’t turn red like patches, I head up away from Bondi toward Dudley Page reserve where I know I am in for a treat. This one hill on the way there is gruelling and I struggle as I climb up, but I can see the park a few hundred feet away now and this gives me the motivation I need to keep pedaling.
WHAT A VIEW! Other than myself, there is only a family having a picnic and one man working out. You would think a spot like this would have more people on such a nice day, but I guess not. I snap photos of the view and use a bench to prop my tripod in order to get some pictures of me with the view in the background. The city is far away and the pictures cannot do this spot justice. If you ever visit Sydney I highly recommend going to Dudley Page reserve as pictures will not do it justice. The silence makes it even better and a slight breeze on my skin sends shivers down my spine. I am in the moment. After spending almost an hour here I leave and ride very quickly downhill on Military Road.
Back at the Bounce, I am talking with my Irish roommates Brian and Caroline when two Aussie girls from Canberra and Melbourne come into the room. The Torontonians are long gone and I am not upset because these girls are cute as. Both are tall, blonde and very outgoing (high 7’s). They smile and shake my hand and tell me that they have never met a Canadian person before in their lives. One of them, Kristy, says that they are here for two nights and asks what clubs are good here. I tell them smilingly, “I have no fucking clue!” and they both laugh. The Irish give them many different options as I spectate for a minute, checking out Kristy. The other Aussie girl, Stephanie, seems to have noticed and tests me with, “Are you checking her out?” I just nod in agreement and return to my bed where I start typing. Now they start seeking rapport with me asking me all the interview style questions like where I’m from, what I do, do I have a girlfriend. “My name is Matthew Corey Leclerc Milligan. I’m 25 years old and I’m unmarried. Now you know everything there is to know about a person.” By the way, I stole that line from Eve Kendall in North by Northwest. Kristy is now giving me googly eyes as she unpacks. “I do have a girlfriend in Toronto though and she is awesome.”
The girls ask me if I will go to Darling harbour with them and I agree to show them around. I tell them my favourite restaurant in the world is there…Subway. They laugh again and I now tell Kristy it’s time for a piggy back ride! She gladly leaps on my back and I spin around trying to jostle her loose as she screams in terror. At subway I get the 7 dollar ham and they each split a roasted chicken breast. The dude behind the counter recognises me from last night and says that I move quickly. I nod in agreement. A few different things that are differ in Australian Subways are that they down serve mustard in, they call toppings “salad” and green peppers here are called capsicum. We sit by the harbour and watch a street performer do some magic tricks. He makes an inflatable poodle for Stephanie and I demand he make one for Kristy, so he does. She claps, hugs me and goes to kiss me on the lips, but I pull away and playfully tell her I have a girlfriend. Now I point to a hobo walking by and tell Kristy, “I’ll introduce her to him and they are perfect for one another.” She laughs and light-heartedly pushes me away. I now pick her up and do what Tim calls the double legged claw. Again I spin her around and Stephanie is now like cheering as Kristy goes, “WHEEEEEEEEEE!” Suddenly Stephanie gets a phone call and tells Kristy they have to go meet her mom. Kristy goes, “NO! I WANT TO BE WITH MATTY!” I place her gently down. And gently tell her that she has to go, but I will miss her.
Subsequently I am sitting alone in Darling harbour on the steps thinking about Cindy. She hasn’t replied to my last 2 emails, so I am getting worried for some reason. My old insecurities are still in me, lodged deep in my brain and my neediness hasn’t been erased. I still don’t have the 100% belief that will give me the core-confidence and results in life that I desire. I have girls practically throwing themselves at me and I still feel insecure. My emotions get the best of me and I have to cut off the negative mental loop before I cry. Sure I have made a couple of friends here and I like the scenery, but I feel lonely. I miss home: The places, blazing, my friends, Cindy, my brother and my mom. It’s times like these though that I realise I am growing the most.
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