Be careful what you volunteer for...

I'm averse to paying people to perform services that I can do myself. It's not so much that I'm cheap, but that I like to be self-sufficient and I feel like I'm as capable as most folks that I would hire. That's especially true when it comes to things like cleaning my gutters and mowing the yard, a little less so for things like building our screen porch, repairing my '51 Farmall tractor, re-plumbing and wiring my barn, and bike repair, but I learn. I guess I get it from my Dad. I wasn't around him much growing up, but, though he was in the insurance business, he seemed capable of doing anything. He was at times an expert fly fisherman, tied beautiful flies for his use and for others, gunsmith, marksman, trapper, mechanic, welder, radio operator, etc., etc. If he developed an interest in something, he learned it.
I do most of my own bike wrenching, buying tools and learning tasks as I've needed to. I enjoy it and have volunteered my services to friends for simple jobs like replacing cables, adjusting derailleurs, wrapping bars and the like.
This week, I learned yet another lesson: be careful what you volunteer for.
I told a friend (unnamed, as I'm likely to embarrass her)that I'd replace her shifter cables after she complained of slow and inconsistent shifting. Her bike is Campy equipped and all of my stuff is Shimano, so I thought it would give me a chance to get a closer look at another system. I checked it out, got new cables and housings from Competitive Cyclist and she dropped her bike off. This should be a 45 minute job even for a goob like me. 10 minutes for a bike shop guy.

Problem Number One:
Now I know why bike shops ask you to clean your bike before bringing it in. This poor bike was nasty. I know I'm a clean freak when it comes to my bike, but the space between her cogs was stuffed with what looked like greasey felt. I didn't think a bike was capable of hauling around so much grime. I couldn't stand it, so when Diane came home, I was out back with brushes, Simple Green, rags, WD-40, and every lube and solvent I could throw at it. When I could finally see through the links in the chain, I called it good. My 45 minute time budget was already spent.

Problem number Two:
Cables come with a metal plug molded onto the end. The cable threads into an opening in the shifter assembly and the plug seats in a like-sized opening, securing the end of the cable. The other end is eventually secured to its respective derailleur. This should just slip out when the cable is released from the derailleur end. I guess when this bike was built up, somebody grabbed the wrong type cable, as this one looked to be hammered in place. Sparing details, it took well over two hours to get the cable end out, one shard at a time, and I was wanting to talk to the guy who built up the bike. Call it three hours.

Down to the original task:
After that, the other cable came out as it should and the installation of new cables and housings went smoothly and took, oh, about 45 minutes.I had not realized that Campy shifter cables run under the bar tape, so I also had to rewrap the bars, but I keep tape on-hand. No problem, but add another 20 minutes.


All ended well, but at 10:30 last night, I was wondering how to tell my friend that she wasn't going to be able to ride her bike and how I was going to drag the whole mess to Comp Cyclist to beg for help. The bike shop boys would have been very amused. Rider girl, not so much.

It's always rewarding to solve problems and get a job done, so this was ultimately another positive experience in my life of continuing education. It just took a little longer than expected.
OK, a lot longer than expected.