In an effort to get in better shape and to save some gasoline, I have been riding my bike to work on nice days. The distance is four miles each way, and the route is fairly flat with a wide, generous bike lane for most of the way. It takes me about 15 to 20 minutes to get to my destination, and I have noticed that my time and the amount of sweat I produce is decreasing with each trip. The only down side of this practice so far is that my sweet, loving wife insists I wear neon colored “anklets” which restrain the cuffs of my pants and, in her estimation, decrease the likelihood of leaving her widowed because my pants become tangled in the chain causing me to veer violently into traffic, or a car is unable to see me without the loud neon warnings on each leg causing said car to veer violently into me. She also pushed for me to wear a neon vest – like a construction worker might wear to direct traffic – but I flat out refused. The anklets are enough to draw taunts from my coworkers who are now comparing me to Steve Carrell’s character in the movie “The 40 Year Old Virgin”, or to Pee Wee Herman and his beloved bicycle.
I like to ride, and I have written about it before as a great way to relieve stress, stay healthy, and to clear one’s mind. The bicycle I am using now I had completely forgotten about until I went into the backyard shed at my Mother’s house to move some things around. There it was – a dusty grey twelve speed road bike circa 1987 or 1988. It had been given to me by a friend who was moving to California in the late 1980’s and did not have room for the thing. Back then I had a decent road bike and mountain bike of my own, so I had put his donation into the shed where it apparently sat for over two decades. About eight years ago, I had donated my own 12 speed road bike to a program that revamps them for people who are in need of transportation around our town. This was after my own kids were born, and my cycling had been reduced to peddling around the neighborhood slowly on my mountain bike with the two wheeled “kid trolley” closely behind. I had mounted a child’s seat onto the back of my wife’s mountain bike, and she had affixed loud horns, whistles, and several hundred reflectors, flashing lights, and neon stickers to the whole affair to make sure that everyone could see and hear our procession coming from miles away. I enjoyed these short, tame, rides but I thought at that time that any “real” riding was over for me – especially any that would involve long distances on highways and biways with a proper road bike.
But times and situations change, as does everything in this life, and when my office moved to the location four miles away and the kids got a bit older and moved from the trolley and child’s seat to their own bicycles, the prospect of returning to some more challenging cycling became plausible. Not to mention that the price of gas and the consumption of our world’s oil are major concerns to my family. So I began to consider biking to work. And then I found the 12 speed on this archeological dig in the shed. The stars were aligning. I would ride again.
But I had my doubts about this two wheeled grey ghost in the shed. It was dirty. And dusty. And, worst of all, kind of heavy. Having moderate experience with bicycles and bicycling over the years, I knew that weight can be a huge drawback to riding on the road, and it can also indicate the use of cheaper materials and poor craftsmanship. The brand of the thing was completely unfamiliar to me, and I thought it may have been a “box store” special. This might have been why I stuck it out in the shed to begin with. But upon inspecting the rims, shifters, and various gear components, I noticed that they were all top of the line brands that have only become more popular and widely used over the years. I also realized how BIG the frame was. My friend who had given it to me was a tall teenager, and apparently he had gone for the Goliath sized ride. This was very attractive to me, because I have never liked the effect on my back muscles, posture, or overall visual result that riding like a hunchback on one of the smaller older style road bikes provides. It seemed I would have plenty of room for leg extension and the ability to sit up straight while riding on the grey ghost.
So I began to clean it up, and invested about $45.00 in parts on my venture. It was the first time I had gone into any official bicycle stores in years, and I felt instant deja-vous and a warm familiarity with the environment, the people, and the equipment. While living in Boulder, CO. in my early twenties, I had sold my car and lived entirely on my mountain bike for a few seasons. It was wonderful – even when it meant trekking to work at six in the morning in a snowstorm with a change of clothes in my back pack for when I arrived. Life was simple, and natural, and pure in those moments. During that time, I did not trust myself to do any of the standard maintenance or repairs on my bike, so I established a close relationship with the owners of a local bike shop. There were several such shops around Boulder, and I was drawn to the “earthiest” one “some may call it cheapest – but I prefer earthy”. In any case, I went looking for a similar shop in my current town and soon found that bicycling, like many other outdoor activities, has become a big money maker – a cash cow – a “racket”.
In truth, it probably always has been, but as my life and responsibilities and bills have changed, so too has my acuity on recognizing what I consider overpriced non-necessities. I soon found myself laughing out loud at the prices I saw on newer bicycles and on some of the trendier equipment. It was not difficult, for example, to find bicycles that cost more than I paid for the current car I am driving – which was purchased from craigslist. I was also amused by the clothing which has become a big part of the cycling trend in recent years. Some of the shorts, strangely formed helmets, biking shoes, gloves, and bright colored, tight fitting shirts looked like props which were used in the recent “Avengers” movie. Perhaps that is what the message is with this apparel: “You too can be a superhero – on your bike and hard to miss in this ridiculously garish garb for only $1,200 – $1,500!” I wondered if the material was bullet proof, or had some special power like some Avenger’s suits do. Many of the glowing shirts also were emblazoned with the names of what I assume are biking related products. As if the rider had a cooperate sponsor and was in training for the Summer Olympics or the Tour De France. These items and their prices seemed absolutely absurd and foreign to me – the 40 year old virgin who just wants to ride his ancient dinosaur bike that he found in the shed to get back and forth to work and get a bit of exercise in on the way.
I did find one store in our area – a newer one – that better suited my needs. I picked up the necessities for a thorough tune up, and some used items to replace things which had rusted or rotted off my grey ghost. I then employed the power of Google “isn’t Google great – I love that so much information is now at our fingertips,” and researched the best techniques for a thorough bike tune up. I also found the origins of the bicycle. It turns out that this was one of the first 12 speeds made for road racing. At the time of construction, it WAS considered light compared to other road bikes, and it was purposely built larger than other bikes to accommodate taller riders. The production of these bicycles was short lived, however, because of the weight and size, and after just a few short years the entire design was obsolete and the company disappeared. It seemed my ghost was quite rare after all – and that made it all the more appealing to me.
So I got to work on the bike, and I soon found myself realizing that the manufacturers had built this bike to last. The tires had dried out and rotted, but the alloy rims were straight and true and rust free. I found the same thing with the brakes and shifting components – all in need of lubrication, but working well and no worse for the years of wear and storage. I replaced several cables, took my time with fully cleaning the chain, and soon I was pedaling the ghost by hand and listening to the sweet, rhythmic, “tick,tick,tick” sound of the wheels moving while the chain rode smoothly up and down the back rim changing gears as I moved the shifter. It was music to my ears – satisfaction and accomplishment and an extreme appreciation for things well made. It seems that our expectations for quality and longevity in items has become nearly extinct in these modern times. Things break because they were not well made and we buy new ones that are also not well made. We have become so accustomed to substandard quality, services, and products in our daily affairs that things which stand the test of time and continue to perform their intended tasks are the exception and not the norm anymore. I think there is something bigger and more malignant that has grown into the fiber of many people because of the current mentality to “throw it out and get a new one.” I believe it has chipped and worn away strong values and beliefs and core character traits that are desperately needed in relationships, at our jobs, in our homes, and as we look at solutions to growing global eco-problems. In my humble opinion, we need to honor, preserve, and continue to build things that will last.
I am riding the bike regularly now, and laughing along with the taunts and jokes of my coworkers. Being quirky and different and weird are things I have learned to accept and cherish about myself. And it is worth the jibes to continue those simple, natural, pure moments upon my aging grey ghost, floating along gracefully and listening to the rhythmic ticking from a time not so long ago which valued old craftsmanship that was truly built to last…
You have inspired me to ride my bike today. I too, love my bike. It was given to me by two people I love very much. I always go for comfort and safety at the cost of fashion. Of well, sticks abd stones. Don’t forget to wear your helmet. Aren’t we blessed to live in an area we can have it alll? Have a great day. I love you.
Great day for a ride! I remember sensing trouble when you rode up to my football practice because I had taken the car in high school! Love you, too!