Rescued

OK, I was riding along Shepard Road enjoying the sun. I was feeling a bit cramped on my bike. This morning I had adjusted the seat a bit- slid it forward. I have an American Classic seatpost- an engineering marvel. My Look's single bolt design was done by Rube Goldberg himself- impossible to adjust without predicting its angle when fully tightened. I've never felt an emotional attachment to a seatpost, but if I did, my amorous affections would solely belong to the AC.

So this afternoon, I stopped by the entrance to Crosby Farms and the Marina to set things right. As I tightened the seat clamp, I kept tightening and tightening. At that point I realized the clamp was stripped. I backed the bolt out, and noticed the threads backing out with it. I was so absorbed in my mad science, that I failed to notice there were a bunch of men sitting in the parked cars along the road. Something was up. I kept fiddling with the seatpost, trying to at least somewhat secure the saddle. A very strange man approached me and asked what was wrong. He reminded me of Maynard from Pulp Fiction. I made polite conversation. After realizing that I'd have no seat to ride on (that it simply would not stay attached to the post), I finally mentioned that I was calling my wife to rescue me. He went back to his Jeep SUV and waited. As I waited, he drove back and forth twice along the frontage road before leaving. Another guy in a pickup truck asked if I needed a lift, which I declined. A Somalian taxi driver walked into a thicket of weeds, disappeared for several minutes, reappeared, then drove away.

My rescurer arrived in short order- especially considering that it was rush hour. I don't know what goes on down there, but it isn't the first time I've noticed this phenomenon during my commute.

When I arrived home, I found another 27.0 seatpost that will get me through until I figure out my next move. AC sells the entire clamp kit for $15. I emailed them to see if it is possible to only purchase the top clamp. I don't want to sound cheap, but I don't need the rest of the parts, and I will soon be unemployed.