Love, Again

When the going gets tough (it is), the tough head to the source of their obsession: for me, at the moment, that is the bike shop.

I stood around for hours, I chatted, I slavered over my new cranks (gorgeous, lightweight, strong), I petted both a nice dog and my soon-to-be new bike.

I dawdled, I dallied. I avoided work. I came home and did some work. A little, a very little.

My cat welcomed me home with purrs and yowls, in her inimitable way. She likes to perch on my left shoulder (I never put her on my right, as it is tattooed, and I do not wish for nice big cat scratches to complete the look) and rub her head against mine, and purr her little ass off, and dig her claws in for purchase, because much as she trusts me otherwise, she will never, ever believe that I have a good enough hold on her.

I thought about bikes, and the many ways in which they set us free. The way our eyes light up when we find the right one.

I thought about the various people who came through the shop while I was there - messengers, people looking for parts, people buying new bikes or asking for the shop to keep an eye out for the perfect thing for them (as they did for me). The girl who bought the incredible vintage handmade Bianchi, which the owner had saved for her, and sold to her at half what someone else had offered for it, because he knew it was her bike. Meant for her.

I thought about the girl who's bought my old road bike. It's perfect for her needs; she's a triathlete short on funds, and it's a racing frame, and it'll cost her half what a new one would, and I put few miles on it and treated it gently and put new tires on it right before I sold it.

I came home and dug out some extra tubes for those tires. I'm going to bring them with me for her, next time. I may offer her a spare racing saddle I have, as a gift. Bikes make people happy. It makes me very happy indeed to think that my bike will be making someone new happy. I kind of love her, and I've never met her.

I remember how Boywich felt when he sold his touring bike. He'd never quite felt the big love for it, and then he found someone who was looking for just that bike, to take on a long tour in Australia. He felt so good about seeing it go to the right person. I know just what he means.

I'd like to meet her, shake her hand. Apparently, at the last race she went to, they laughed at her bike. That won't happen this time. I hope she wins!