While my body often makes weird noises (such as knee popping, hip thunking, stomach growling, etc), this post is not about the aches and pains of an early forties guy. Of course, I could write a full post on the oddities that happen as you age.
This post is about my bike.
At one time, I affectionately called her “Ana”. I don’t know why I named my bike. I guess lots of folks do. Ana came as a shortened version of Quintana Roo – which she is. In retrospect, I’m not sure many guys actually name their bike. As such, I haven’t referred to her as Ana in a long while.
Recently, however, I’ve been calling her “The Squeaker”.
You see, my bike makes noises.
Specifically, my bike makes a squeak. Or a click. Or a thunk. Not sure what to actually call it. Nevertheless, it’s been driving me batty. It sounds like a metronome. Click. Click. Click. Click.
Every time I pedal. Click. Click. Click.
Yesterday afternoon I spent a good hour trying to isolate and identify the problem. At first, I thought that the noise was coming from somewhere in my drivetrain. Perhaps my bottom bracket. Maybe a chainring bolt.
Turns out I was wrong. I tightened all the chainring bolts. I tightened my cleat bolts on my shoes. I lubed everything that could be lubed. I took a test ride, and The Squeaker was still there.
Click. Click. Click.
The sound was actually coming from my left side. I am pretty sure that I isolated the sound to the spring on my left pedal. I lubed it a little, and hoped for the best.
This morning, I went out on a little morning ride. The result? Blissful silence. No squeaking. No clicking. Nothing. Just the sound of my breathing and the wind in my ears.
Here’s to hoping that The Squeaker stays away.