REFURB MY MOOTS!
Laying in wait, hanging like a bat from the rafters, I anxiously await the faint jingle of keys that let the day’s weather rush in. I watch as shoes and glasses are selected, clothing is adjusted and zippers zip. The routine varies throughout the seasons, at times the preparations are quick and other times more involved. I feel a warm hand grasp my seat tube while another grabs the left side of my fork and I know that I am in for another ride.
Carefully lowered and up righted, thoughts of what the day’s adventure will bring flow through my frame. Cool air fills the tubes within my tires and bottles of water are slid into my cages. When the tail light begins to flash and computer beeps, I know it’s time. Joining as one, my crank rotates with ease and the ride begins.
Each of my parts were meticulously selected and added to my wonderfully welded, satiny smooth frame. It was the spring of 2007 when my stem was first grasped. I was guided toward a light filled doorway that leads to the bustling street. This is a day I will never forget. This is the day I met my owner, my guy. He gazed at me for what seemed like an eternity. Spinning my crank, shifting gears, squeezing levers, pinching tires and pressing on my seat, every inch of my custom build was scrutinized. I was concerned at first, but I quickly realized his scrutiny was really just true affection for the bike that I am. Suddenly, I felt the locking of his shoe into my right pedal as he swung his left leg over my top tube. Off we went, pulling out into traffic, that day was pure joy for the both of us.
With tens of thousands of miles on the road, hundreds of hours of care and cleanings, and many upgrades, I continue to get the same look and attention I received that spring day nearly 10 years ago. We have a relationship and an understanding of each other that few friendships can ever boast about.
Together we share endless time together. We have traveled the local roads more times than I can count. Roads where every bump and pothole are known, every turn is memorized and every sprint anticipated. These rides are where my responsiveness and function are put to the test. We work hard as a team as my guy splits his joy of riding between me, the ride itself, and his fellow riders. We know these riders well, so much so that we understand each of their traits and the relationship they share with their bike. These are the times when the camaraderie of the riders is brought to the forefront of the sport.
Then we have our solo rides and extra long challenges. These are the journeys where the emphasis is on us. Our communication is silent and predictable. The ride can be calm and casual or purely exhausting. Either way,
we almost always enjoy the beauty and challenge of new surroundings.
No matter what, I know my response and reaction to each of the many types of rides we share together will be rewarded with his thoughtful and respectful riding style and attention to my well being. It is clear that the happiness of our bond is not based on where we have been, but the fact that we have been there together.
Given the length and dedication of service, the pride taken in our lasting relationship, and the hope that my strength, reliability and good looks don’t fail me, I can say with much eagerness that a visit back to my home town to be treated to the ultimate bike spa would guarantee me another decade filled with the same emotions that began that spring day back in 2007.