As the month of November approaches, and we (I) make room in the house for a new
addition. (Thank you Stacy) I can't help but look back and remember my old pal Leon, the bike that hangs by it's seat from my ceiling. The bike that has carried me for two years now. This bike saw all kinds of races and rides. He carried me to victories and saw me through failures.
I think it is important to lend respect to our bikes. Any rider would quickly disagree if you told them their bike was nothing more than a metal and rubber contraption. We know these things inside and out. We know when grips are worn, wheels are bent, levers are out of place... Leon started as a budget franken-bike project. A new 2006 Chameleon frame pieced together with what parts I had on hand, and what parts I could afford. Slowly, though he started to transform as I transformed as a rider. Leon was my cross country race bike, my downhill race bike, my dual slalom race bike, my endurance race bike. Sure he didn't necessarily excel at all of these arenas, but he and I did our best. At Downieville this past year, I leaned against this bike like a drunk banker leans against a toilet on a Friday night.
I had just vomited for the ump-teenth time, and remember looking really closely at the logo sticker between bouts of sickness, which by then had been scrapped and tattered, and remembering what I had been through with this bike. For all the failure of my own body that day, Leon never faltered once on some of the harshest terrain. Leon was the quick and stout dual slalom race bike when I slapped a chain guide on him, and shouldered battery packs for midnight shifts during a 24 hour race. Recently, I think he reached his fullest potential, a sturdy and fast single speed.
With much anticipation and unbridled excitement I await the middle of this month when I can bring home that new ride. But even with all that excitement I will always take that Chameleon out, because in its simple form it is exactly what cycling should be. The bikes you leave behind for the newest model are the reason you can have the newest model. So, to the team, I say we all walk out into the garage, flip on the lights and pay thanks to the bikes we own, and thanks for the fact that we own them at all. Keep their chains and cables oiled, and their headsets tight because you never know when you might want to reminisce.
As the month of November approaches, and we (I) make room in the house for a new addition. (Thank you Stacy) I can't help but look back and remember my old pal Leon, the bike that hangs by it's seat from my ceiling. The bike that has carried me for two years now. This bike saw all kinds of races and rides. He carried me to victories and saw me through failures.
I think it is important to lend respect to our bikes. Any rider would quickly disagree if you told them their bike was nothing more than a metal and rubber contraption. We know these things inside and out. We know when grips are worn, wheels are bent, levers are out of place... Leon started as a budget franken-bike project. A new 2006 Chameleon frame pieced together with what parts I had on hand, and what parts I could afford. Slowly, though he started to transform as I transformed as a rider. Leon was my cross country race bike, my downhill race bike, my dual slalom race bike, my endurance race bike. Sure he didn't necessarily excel at all of these arenas, but he and I did our best. At Downieville this past year, I leaned against this bike like a drunk banker leans against a toilet on a Friday night. 
I had just vomited for the ump-teenth time, and remember looking really closely at the logo sticker between bouts of sickness, which by then had been scrapped and tattered, and remembering what I had been through with this bike. For all the failure of my own body that day, Leon never faltered once on some of the harshest terrain. Leon was the quick and stout dual slalom race bike when I slapped a chain guide on him, and shouldered battery packs for midnight shifts during a 24 hour race. Recently, I think he reached his fullest potential, a sturdy and fast single speed.
With much anticipation and unbridled excitement I await the middle of this month when I can bring home that new ride. But even with all that excitement I will always take that Chameleon out, because in its simple form it is exactly what cycling should be. The bikes you leave behind for the newest model are the reason you can have the newest model. So, to the team, I say we all walk out into the garage, flip on the lights and pay thanks to the bikes we own, and thanks for the fact that we own them at all. Keep their chains and cables oiled, and their headsets tight because you never know when you might want to reminisce.
2 comments:
Oh Jesse! I wasn't sure I'd actually see this day! After what...6 months...no wait, ELEVEN months of watching you lust over a new Nomad, I am absolutely STOKED for you that you finally get to ride this thing!!! Yes, I've been hounding you to pull the trigger for almost an entire year. PHEW! I'm exhausted!!!
But like I've always said, not only do you DESERVE this bike, but this bike absolutely deserves you. You are one of the most talented, humble, and appreciative riders I know. And you, above all people, will make that bike look good :)
Congratulations, Jesse. I am so excited to see you fly on that beautiful machine.
Always,
Stoobie
I am frankly in awe of your unabashed fanatacism. Continue to inspire!!!
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