Brakes

As a non-car-owner, I use a variety of methods to travel hither and yon from home to work to class. Mostly I bike. It's good exercise, is actually faster than riding the bus, and it's actually pretty fun.  But although bikes are terribly fuel efficient and eco-friendly, they do need repairs and tune-ups in much the same way that a toaster does. That is to say, eventually? Whatever. Due to constant use and an average of 6 miles per day, my bike is getting worn out. My brakes are past worn out. 

Things I have learned from not having brakes:

1. It doesn't matter that the fix is cheap, easy, or readily available, nor does it matter that the risk is life threatening. If the change is gradual,  you don't think it's that big of a deal, and the fix is slightly onerous, you can procrastinate it indefinitely.

Cost of two sets of brake pads: 10$

Distance to nearest bike shop: 0.2 miles

Estimated replacement time: 15 minutes

Amount of time I've biked with worn-out brakes: 4-6 months

Enough said.

2.  The true danger of incremental decay is not always readily apparent. 

Even when day-to-day functioning seems relatively unimpaired, under the right circumstances, it can fail completely and without warning.  

Examples: Dams seem really effective until they burst. Then they're not.

Structure integrity can suffer for a long time before outward symptoms show. In the case of my brakes, they still work, usually. I mean, if you stop pedaling and hold down really hard on both front and back breaks, you'll stop after 20-45 feet. Depending on your initial speed. If you're not going downhill.  But… add water, and viola! Catastrophic brake failure!

I first realized this when I was biking in the rain. I realized I was going down a slick, well-trafficked road a little too fast for comfort. I decided to brake, and then realized that I already was. Or wasn’t. That is, my hands were clenching the brakes, but I wasn't slowing down. While my brakes more or less worked when dry, even a moderate amount of water rendered them slicker then jelly-greased slippers. While riding down that hill, I realized that I really needed to replace my brakes, and resolved to do so. But the next day was sunny. And the day after that I was busy. Once out of the fear-inducing situation, my unease quickly faded. By the time the next rainy day came, I was once again on my way to work, too busy to swing by the bike shop while they were open.

3. If you rapidly zigzag back and forth while braking, you can halve your stopping distance.

It's true. By zigzagging, you take a longer, more circuitous route. You thereby travel a greater distance while achieving the same displacement, which gives friction more time to slow you down. Even a small-amplitude zigzag can help a great deal.

4. Gradual change, even when it is consciously recognized, has diminished psychological impact

In this lies the very real danger of losing reference. If you could compare side by side the before and after health effects of smoking for 10 years (or of overeating, or not exercising, etc.),  the difference would be appallingly stark. But one cigarette? One big mac?  Even when you look back and recognize the difference, "one more dorito chip" doesn't carry much emotional impact, though the accumulated effect is immense. 

For my brakes, I consciously knew they were wearing out, but I could never put my finger on the calendar and say "today was worse than yesterday", or even "this week they're worse than last week". But each imperceptible change accrued until I was dragging both feet on the asphalt to halt my bike at a stop sign.

My post here may sound a little dramatic, (or maybe not dramatic enough, depending on who you are) so let me hasten to tell you that it really wasn't that bad. Yeah, my brakes are worn out and should have been replaced long ago, but I wear a helmet, try to be a conscientious biker, etc. etc. And best of all, I decided not use the zigzag trick to permanently compensate for my burned-out brakes. I stopped procrastinating and bought new brake pads, and now I can install them.

Tomorrow...