Bike Suspension Quotes

Too late. Torn’s rear tire hit the perennial wet spot from a leak in the tunnel ceiling. Rookie mistake. When the back wheel hydroplaned on the wet surface, he felt the sickening feelings of sliding and weightlessness as he started to separate from the bike.

If she drank enough, she might just dare to get on the back of his bike and ride off with him. She wouldn't look back. She wouldn't want to look back. He would be enough for her. She could make a life with him, she knew she could.

She has so much pride that, even if I'm weary of her, of her fighting ways, her gauntlet-tossing, I can't say there isn't something else that beams in me. An old ember licked to fresh fire again. Beth, the old Beth, before high school, before Ben Trammel, all the boys and self-sorrow, the divorce and the adderall and the suspensions. That Beth at the bike racks, third grade, her braids dangling, her chin up, fists knotted around a pair of dull scissors, peeling into Brady Carr's tire. Brady Carr, who shoved me off the spinabout, tearing a long strip of skin from my ankle to my knee. Tugging the rubber from his tire, her fingernails ripped red, she looked up at me, grinning wide, front-teeth gapped and wild heroic. How could you ever forget that?

No, I said I wanted to come, too. I went to ask Mom.” “Sorry, I didn’t know.” I shrug. “Maybe next time. Come on. Let’s head home. I need to get that grease.” I start walking and glance back to be sure she’s following. She’s still standing on the trail staring at the huge stump. “Y’know, there’s bears up here,” I say. That gets her going. She trots down the trail after me and doesn’t slow down until we’re safely back on the road. As soon as we’re home, I go into the garage and make a bunch of noise hunting for the grease until I hear the front door slam and I’m sure Libby has gone into the house. Then I run back up the street and around the corner. I plop down under a tree and count to 100. While I’m counting, I study the tube of grease in my hand. I sure wish this was all my bike needed. I’m pretty sure it’s going to need a whole new front suspension fork. How much is that going to cost?

The bicycle world provides a great example. For years, major bicycle brands focused on the latest in high-tech equipment: mountain bikes with suspension and ultrastrong disc brakes, or lightweight titanium road bikes with carbon-fiber everything. And it was assumed that bikes should have multiple gears: three, ten, or twenty-one. But recently, fixed-gear bicycles have boomed in popularity, despite being as low-tech as you can get. These bikes have just one gear. Some models don’t have brakes. The advantage: They’re simpler, lighter, cheaper, and don’t require as much maintenance.

Mick was always the right kind of dirty. Windblown, fresh off his bike, wrapped in tattoo and leather. Muscles all the hell over the place. The man was a serious piece of eye candy. Thinking about him losing the leather warmed the chill that had gripped her since the attack.

Really man? Now you’re the one calling the shots?” Willow had taken off his helmet and finally turned off the bike. “Bringing Robert here to be the getaway driver? If you’re looking for escalation this isn’t it, you prick. I call the shots and the rest fall in line. I love you brother, but this isn’t the move.” A door had opened loudly at the distant motel, an odd-looking fellow had stepped out of the kiosk and was walking briskly towards them, muttering to himself out of earshot. Willow had taken this for even more leverage against his outcrying subordinate, “It’s people like this,” pointing at the approaching motel employee, “That gets us locked up. If we get the cops called on us again, he is the first witness to see us with the car or even the kids if he starts yelling and gets them to come out.

I want to show you something,” he said, his voice dropping a little lower than usual and causing a shiver to run down my spine. “What?” I asked. “I said show, not tell. You have to come with me.” Curiosity nagged at me and the champagne urged me into recklessness. He’d promised to be nice after all, so why not? And even though I’d said I wanted to go back to the snooze fest party, I didn’t really. Given the choice, I’d just head back to the Academy. “You’d better not be about to whip your junk out again,” I warned. “Because I’ve seen way too much of you for my liking.” “Oh I think you liked it just fine,” he countered and the heat that flooded my cheeks at his tone stopped me from raising any further argument on the subject. He stepped a little closer to me and I fought against the impulse to lean in. “Come on then, don’t keep me in suspense,” I demanded though a little voice in the back of my head wondered if I meant something else by that statement. Darius’s mouth hooked up at one side and he inclined his head to yet another door on the other side of the room. I followed him as he led the way through the manor to a grand atrium before opening the door onto a dark stairwell which led down to what must have been an underground chamber. I eyed him warily but at this point I was pretty sure he’d have attacked me already if he was going to. Darius Acrux may have been a lot of things but it seemed he was a man of his word; he’d promised to be nice to me tonight and that was what he was delivering. I’d have to keep an eye on the time though, at midnight his Cinderella spell might come undone and he’d turn back into an asshole shaped pumpkin. Lights came on automaticaly as we descended and at the foot of the stairs, he opened another door and led me out into into an underground parking lot. I eyed the row of flashy sports cars in every make and model imaginable but he didn’t pause by them, instead leading me to the far end of the lot. A smile tugged at my lips as I spotted the lineup of super bikes. They were all top of the range, ultra-sleek, ultra-beautiful speed machines. My fingers tingled with the desire to touch them as the tempting allure of adrenaline called to me. “You said you could ride,” Darius said, offering me a genuine smile. “So I thought maybe you’d like to see my collection.” Damn, the way he said ‘my collection’ made me want to punch the entitlement right out of him but I didn’t miss the fire burning in his eyes as he looked at the bikes. That was a passion I knew well. He was a sucker for my kind of temptation too. “Have you done any modifications on them?” I asked, reaching out to brush my fingers along the saddle of the closest red beauty. “They’re top of the line,” he said dismissively like I didn’t know what I was looking at. “They don’t need any mods.” I snorted derisively. So he liked to ride the pretty speed machines but he didn’t know how to work on them. “Figures pretty boy wouldn’t know how to get his hands dirty,” I teased. “Maybe the kinds of bikes you’re used to riding need work to make them perform better but this kind of quality doesn’t require any extras. Besides, I could just pay someone to do it for me even if they did.” “Of course you could. That’s not really the point though.” And he was wrong about the kinds of bikes I was used to riding. I spotted four models amongst his collection which I’d ridden within the last six months. The others could easily be mine with a little bit of time and a tool or two. Not that I felt the need to tell him that. “You wanna take one for a ride?” he offered. “You can test your supposed skill against mine; there’s a circuit to the west of the estate.” My eyes widened at that offer. I’d missed riding since coming to the Academy and I hadn’t really thought I’d be able to get out again any time soon. ...

Length One (L1) is the first measurement. To obtain L1, the rear wheel must be off the ground. If the bike has a centerstand, this task is simple; if not it may help to have a few, friends around to lift the bike. If you’re measuring a road race bike, don’t use a swingarm stand—even though the tire will be off the ground, the weight of the motorcycle will still be pushing down on the suspension, causing it to compress.

Sister Beatrice held her habit off the dirt of the bike path while next to her Henry pushed his bicycle up the gentle slope of the Giselakai.