Next time you glance at your bike, hanging over the dining room table, or jammed in with the scooters, or disassembled in the back seat of your car, or wherever you store it, make a mental note to measure your chain. Then do it.

Get one of those little chain-checker tools, or better yet, take it to your friendly local bike shop and let the pros handle it. But especially if you ride much, or if it’s been a while since you pampered your drivetrain, make sure the chain hasn’t stretched and gone floppy and out of shape.

In case you hadn’t guessed yet, I got my bike back from the shop, and was quite embarrassed. I assumed I was taking excellent care of my dear bike. I lube it regularly, and wipe the chain and the gears. Sometimes I even spray the whole thing down with Bike Lust and it’s shiny and purple and makes me feel quite glorious. But one day a couple of weeks ago, I was out on Penny Road, crawling up the hill by Lake Wheeler, and the chain popped off. Hmm. That never happens. Truly–I climb that hill all the time, and the chain has never come off before. Another cyclist rode by, asking was I okay. I felt ridiculous.

(For the record, yesterday, on the exact same hill, I was again just crawling, lost in thought about my carpool woes, when another cyclist flew by me, saying “That’s a mighty fancy bike you’ve got there.” I chirped something about how much I love it, but then he was gone, and I immediately began to stew, assuming that his compliment was some sort of slur about how someone going that slowly had no business riding such a fabulous bike. I tried desperately to catch him, but never did. Maybe he was right . . . Or maybe it was just because I got caught by a red light–I’m sure he just lucked out and caught it green.)

Anyway, that day a couple of weeks ago, I popped the chain back on, and went on with my ride. Something lodged in my brain, but I couldn’t think what. I was just perplexed that it had come off, but then I was distracted when my computer fell off and two vicious dogs came after me when I stopped to look for it (another story for another day), so I forgot about the omen of the chain.

Three days later, on Graham Newton Rd. this time, chain came off again. Hmm. This time, I pondered the problem more carefully, and realized that it was probably because the chain was too old. So I rode, oh, three more times or so, then took the bike to the shop. Yup. A week later, they’ve replaced the chain–and the rear cassette. Ouch. Apparently, if you wear a chain out, it stretches, rubs against the teeth of the gear rings, and wears them down, so a new chain won’t fit right. Whoda thunk it?! So do yourself a favor–check your chain.

Now, what I should’ve done to keep water out, to avoid the corroded cup in the bottom bracket, and the ruined bearings in the headset, I don’t know. Rain just seems to happen . . .