Here's a reader post.
We’ve all been there. That one bike. The one that fits you like a glove. You knew it inside out and it knew you. OK, it wasn’t perfect, you get that, and it didn’t excel at anything, but it was proficient at everything. The geometry was right, the lines were right, it just felt so damn right. There were the wins, or at least the days that felt like wins, when you battled and dug deep and prevailed. Then there were the lows, the pain, the shame, the bent and the broken. But the bike developed as you did, it traced your curve, followed your path and became an extension of you. A tweak here, a mod there, the indulgence of a new shiny bit and the satisfaction of a part home-made. Battle scars hard won and respect dutifully earned. You and your bike against the world.
Then the creeping realisation that maybe, just maybe, you are outgrowing your bike. Your confidence is much greater now, you have more control, more flow. Maybe your legs have grown longer. Or the bars have reached their limit of adjustment. Either way, the wheels suddenly seem small and the ergonomics aren’t what they once were. It’s time to let go, time to wheel the bike to the back of the garage, let it sit there awhile, there’s no rush. Perhaps one day, when the dust has settled, the cycle of inspiration might emerge once again. ‘Dad, how do you Sideburn?’ ‘Here son, let me show you….’
Loved issue 40.
Thanks for making self-isolation and social distancing something to look forward to. Any chance of bringing an issue out weekly during virus pandemics?
All the best
Gareth (and his Sideburning son, aged 4), Surrey, UK