I often joke about being able to fix anything with a roll of duct tape, a tube of Crazy Glu or a can of WD-40. But I didn't even think of those when my right STI shifter on my bicycle stopped working.
My LeMond Tourmalet bicycle is six years old, and I always thought one of its coolest features were the STI shifters — brakes and gear shifters all in one. Apparently riding in these wet, cold Northwest winters took its toll on these Shimano components, because a couple of weeks ago the right one stopped shifting.
This is kind of a long-winded tale, but there are a couple of worthwhile lessons for bike owners and bike shop owners.
When the levers stopped working, I made a couple of adjustments to the rear derailleur so I could keep riding by turning the bike into a three-speed (using the three chainrings on the crank). This was not smart, and it didn't really work. I also tried disassembling the right shifter, but stopped when I sensed springs and lots of pieces ready to pop.
Next I took the bicycle into the local bike store — a wide open retailer with lots of floor space, lots of bikes and bike clothing for sale, and sales people who all wore matching polo shirts. There were several mechanics in the service area, and the guy who ran the cash register asked what was wrong — “the right shifter doesn't work” — and gave it to one of the mechanics to check out.
Wishful thinking
As I walked around the store keeping my young daughter from knocking over rows of bicycles like dominoes, I'm thinking the guy is going to be able to make a couple of adjustments and send me on my way. I can hear him saying, “Just had to tweak it. It's OK now. No charge.”
As I'm getting back there, the mechanic is hanging up the phone. “I checked with our other store. They can send over a new pair of STIs.” Parts and labor to install, including brand new handlebar tape, would come to $350.
“Only one is broken. Can't I get just one?”
“No they come in pairs. Anyway, the left one looks like it's about to go out too.”
I mumble something about not being prepared to pay that much, he didn't offer any alternatives, and I took the bike and we left the store.
As luck would have it, maybe a week later I dropped my son and his friends off at Snoqualmie Pass to snowboard, and I head back to get some work done at the public library in North Bend. On my way to lunch, a duck in a little storefront bicycle shop in North Bend named Singletrack Cycles. All the way in the back, I spotted a mechanic in a T-shirt working on a bike.
I told him my problem and asked if there was a way to install tube-end shifters or even old-style downtube shifters on the LeMond. I needed something cheaper than $350.
The WD-40 solution
Sure, he said, then asked what exactly was wrong with my shifter. When I told him, he suggested I take the front cap off the STI shifter and spray a “copious” amount of WD-40 in there as I work the shifter levers. Wrap a towel underneath so the tape doesn't get ruined. When it starts working, shoot in some Teflon-based oil to act as the lubricant.
He explained that Shimano uses a type of grease that can get funky after a few years of riding in Pacific NW weather. The WD-40 washes it out.
I thanked him and followed his instructions. Sure enough, it worked. It doesn't operate at 100% efficiency; it misses occasionally (I caused part of the problem by fiddling around with the rear derailleur, which I'm still tweaking). But it's more than adequate for the type of riding I do, and I'd think for most Tourmalet riders. It's not a high-performance racing bike.
What I learned
Obviously the lesson for bicyclists is to get a second opinion if the cost of a repair seems unreasonable or you don't have unblinding belief in your mechanic. Think about alternatives before jumping into something. (That goes for the advice offered here on fixing STI shifters as well, which isn't what this piece is about. It's about shopping around for options.)
For bike retailers, I'd suggest they tell their employees to offer less expensive options — if they exist — when a potential customer balks at a repair cost. The mechanic at the original bike shop probably could have sold me on switching to downtube or bar end shifters after he laid the initial estimate on me . If he wanted to build loyalty, he even could have suggested cleaning them out.
But the real capper, for me, is him saying that the other shifter “is about to go out.” It reminded me of the gas station attendant in Arizona who talked my mom and her sister into getting new shock absorbers for the Chevy they were driving to the Grand Canyon because the old ones needed replacing before they took off across the desert highway.
Even though it's the closest bike store, I won't be going back there. I don't want to give them my business anymore.
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