An Evening with my Uncle Jack

I gave my uncle Jack a call 2 weeks ago to help diagnose a squeak in my front wheel. When I had nobody to call for help I rang him because I remember as a strapping young Turk seeing exotic bike equipment (to me, that was anything not found at Wal-Mart) around Jack's house and hearing tales of his racing accolades yada yada. Although the man has hung up the helmet for good, his lore and wisdom live on strong. I decided to take advantage of Brady's (where Jack built his castle) proximity to Sonora, with no effort I convinced Cody to drop me off for a one day bike pilgrimage to extract knowledge from the legend.

I arrived at lunch time and was knocked off my feet by Susan's cooking, chicken in rice a la Mexicana, it was so good that I honored it with a 2 hour siesta. After big Jack finished his 9 to 5, we took to the backyard shop and put the stallion on the bike rack. We first pulled the front tire off and simulated tube repair, an art all bicycle journeymen must master or perish. Then we moved into tire repair, Jack is one of few in the world that has perfected this, his secret involves dental floss, rim tape, and another adhesive that is used on fighter jets (the man is connected, bada-bing). We moved to replacing brake and gear cables, then brake and gear adjustments, followed by spokes and truing, and finishing with ol' fashion pellet gun shooting Tim Taylor style, with a laser sighted rifle and a variety of gold and Hungarian ballistic pellets. If I would have had Kathy Ireland massaging me with exotic oils between rounds, this would of been the perfect evening.

We later went inside to discuss old times in the bike saddle over some of Susan's exquisite quiche (est magnifique). Then Jack pulls a fast one, and gifts me the unbelievable.

A bike raceing jersey from his team in Brady.

I'll wear it with pride.

Before turning in, Jack and I discussed his current battle with an auto-immune disease known as Multiple Sclerosis or M.S. It's a debilitating disease that attacks the cell walls in the nervous system located in the brain and spinal cord. Jack has an uncommonly bad case, his M.S. rarely goes into remission, he describes it like wearing a tight weight lifter belt, always. Jack related to me everything, the early signs he experienced (blurred vision, burning sensations, loss of feeling...), the MRI that confirmed the scarring in the brain and spinal cord, and then the various treatments he has tried and have failed. It's a scary disease, the crippler of young adults, it has forced the mighty cyclist into retirement, temporarily? What M.S. doesn't know is that Jack is a fierce fighter and a tireless competitor, I almost feel bad for M.S., it hasn't faced anyone like my uncle and if anyone woops its ass it's Jack.

The Brady visit was a success, I not only gained invaluable bike wisdom but a comrade. I'm glad I have the same blood running in my veins, biking 3500 miles in Central America pales in comparison to what Jack does on a daily basis.