Serial Bike Killer

I've been riding well, my knee is improving as my quads are getting stronger. I've been following a conditioning routine and things are looking up. So much so, I decided to
get the FFGB (fancy fat guy bike) refitted, and even put the cleats on. This was big: I must be feeling pretty confident about things to want to put the shoes back on. I made an appointment with Mike at Bikes and Pieces and brought the shoes. After much debate with myself (Mike thinks I'm nuts), I decided to go with the shoes. Bing bang fitting done. I threw the bike in the roof rack and off I went. I would normally ride the damn thing up there, but that day I had 2 other bikes to drop off.

Driving home I was all happy, thinking about things, cotton candy, hot dogs the usual stuff. I drove down the ally and into the garage. The noise was sickening. Because I immediately knew what the noise was, my stomach turned, and I almost threw up. I did not want to get out of the car. And the thought of Nancy Kerrigan on the ice crying after the well placed tire iron incident came to mind once more. Cynthia was sitting on the deck and heard the unmistakable sound of a bike being ripped from the roof of a car. You see, we are familiar with that noise because this is my second bike slaughter. I had become a serial bike killer. It was time to assess the damage. Not too bad. No visible structural damage to the frame. The impact was pinpointed on the handlebars. The Yakima Q-Tower wasn't tight enough allowing it to just slide down the rail. This I believe saved the bike from total destruction. My failure to properly secure my roof rack saved my bike when I drove it into the top of the garage. So remember kids, twolwrongs do make a right.