A mantra, tools and great mechanics

My dad always told me I could do any task with the right tool. 

Well, the first tool I ever used on my bike was a roll of duct tape, because my first “bike maintenance” task was attaching a piece of cardboard to the non-drive side of the chainstay of my Kent Walmart bike. 

I invited my childhood neighborhood friends over to my house, where we parked our bikes — upside down, to ensure a precise operation — and found my dad’s tape. With one roll in hand, we fished for anything cardboard in the trash can. 

The flimsy pizza box was then divided semi-evenly into four parts as we endeavored to install the greatest neighborhood invention ever: The Motorcycle Bicycle. 

The faster you pedal, see, the louder the cardboard slaps each spoke, and, thus, Motorcycle Bicycle. It was my first foray into fiddling around with bikes and it was so satisfying.

Through the years, I learned how to do other basic tasks. Like adjusting a derailleur, replacing brakes, changing tires. 

But then I bought a mountain bike for $100. It was so cheap, in part, because the Suntour fork had cracked. Everything else about the bike, though, was … rideable. I figured I could find a cheap, used fork to slap on and I’d be out riding that weekend. 

When I couldn’t find a used fork that would fit the bike, I was forced to buy a brand new one. I wanted to install it on my own but had never done it — so I took it to the bike shop. 

It was such a cool shop, the kind that blasted Rage Against the Machine and Soundgarden and Bad Religion and The Flaming Lips. The lead mechanic was a bald, unassuming dude wearing shorts and flip flops. When I told him I had this fork and a bike that I wanted to ride that weekend, he said, “No problem, man. Pull up a stool.”

He showed me the process of measuring the old steerer tube, cutting it, filing it, installing the star nut, crown race, greasing it and putting it all together. 

Watching the mechanic methodically do this reinforced my dad’s mantra into my brain, and since then, I’ve been hellbent on making myself more mechanically inclined. 

It’s been slow, but I think some of that has to do with the fact that I haven’t always been willing to spend the money on those really convenient tools. 

The chain whip, for example. A Parktool version of this particular gizmo costs $33. Not a terrible price, but it’s also not super available at local bike shops to buy. So to order one, you also have to consider shipping and the time it takes to get to you — meaning the rear cassette that you wanted to clean or replace will have to wait. So I made one using a steel bar I bought at Lowe’s for $3.11, some hardware for like $0.87 and an old chain. 

Since that nirvana-like experience at the bike shop with the mechanic and the stool, I’ve accumulated some tools, along with an adequate bike stand. And my skillset has grown, too. It’s been cool. 

 I don’t have every tool that a bike shop has. Someday I hope to. For now, what’s pictured will do. 

By the way, I was able to ride my new mountain bike that weekend. It was one of the most magical moments of my life. 

I still have that bike. It’s a 2012 Fuji Nevada 1.0. In many ways, it’s a piece of junk. And a lot — like, almost everything — has gone wrong with it. But that mechanic, coupled with my dad’s “right tool” mantra, implanted a confidence in me to figure it out and make it work. Because if I didn’t, it would have meant not riding. 

And, well, I can’t have that.

What tools do you find to be essential to all garage/basement bike shops? Anything I’m missing? Share in the comments, yo.