I had to go up to church, about 3/4 mile from here, to phony up my treasurer’s report for tonight’s meeting (which went on 45 minutes longer than it needed to, but I’ll put it down to team-building).
I think I’m getting the hang of this derailleur thing. When I got home and looked, I was actually in the gear I thought I was in.
I found a tire pressure gauge that reads up to 150 psi (the bike tires inflate to 90 psi) at the hardware store. I suspect, though I did not check, that I saved several bucks just because it came from a hardware store rather than a bike shop.
(It’s like boats. Anything with the word “marine” in the name automatically costs 40% more than an equivalent product that lacks the word “marine.” I once watch a guy in a Boats-R-US Store–now West Marine–pitch a bitch at the defenseless clerk because the special mop he was buying for cleaning his hull cost more than a squeeze mop from Safeway. Never mind that this special mop had a telescoping anodized aluminum shaft to resist corrosion and, oh, did I mention? a locking telescoping feature for reaching those hard to reach places. Duh!)