Resurrection II
My avid reader(s) may recall that last summer saw the resurrection of of my 17-year-old Cannondale road bike. I've repeated the feat this summer by reanimating my 16-year-old Schwinn mountain bike.
I bought this bike, which I call "the beast", during my first month of medical school. I had just moved to northern New England, rented (with a classmate) a small cabin on a hill with fire-fly meadows out front and thick woods in the back. We had make strange choices, sometimes.
A few years later I was living in Major Metropolitan area, my car had died, and I couldn't afford a new one. I resolved to live with The Beast as my sole transportation. I got a rack and some bags to carry groceries. I got a loud horn. To deter theft, I took The Beast out to the back deck, murmured an apology, and spray-painted her entire frame with flat, rust-colored primer-- an act I have regretted ever since. But The Beast served well. Some weekends I would bash over 10 miles of urban mayhem to the bus station, where I'd catch the bus to New York City to see my girlfriend-- or meet her on the incoming bus, then watch her get on the subway and see if I could beat her back to the house.
Like the Cannondale, The Beast has languished in the cellar of the Turbopalace these recent years. There are a few country spots around where one might ride a mountain bike, but it just isn't the same as the sweet rural scene from my student days. Meanwhile, I've been driving a car back and forth to Green Acres, 116 miles round-trip, almost every day. It's not been fun.
Green Acres is coaxing one more week out of me-- my last day there postponed to June 22nd-- but soon I'll be downgrading my commute from 58 miles to 5.6 miles, and looking for an office even closer. Excited to return to bicycle transport, I hauled out The Beast and have given her a once-over. She has a new chain, new cogs, and new slick puncture-resistant tires with reflective sidewalls. New fenders. A new derailleur cable. I couldn't locate the old baskets, and had to buy a new set. But deep in a shoebox in the cellar, I found the loud, old horn.
I bought this bike, which I call "the beast", during my first month of medical school. I had just moved to northern New England, rented (with a classmate) a small cabin on a hill with fire-fly meadows out front and thick woods in the back. We had make strange choices, sometimes.
A few years later I was living in Major Metropolitan area, my car had died, and I couldn't afford a new one. I resolved to live with The Beast as my sole transportation. I got a rack and some bags to carry groceries. I got a loud horn. To deter theft, I took The Beast out to the back deck, murmured an apology, and spray-painted her entire frame with flat, rust-colored primer-- an act I have regretted ever since. But The Beast served well. Some weekends I would bash over 10 miles of urban mayhem to the bus station, where I'd catch the bus to New York City to see my girlfriend-- or meet her on the incoming bus, then watch her get on the subway and see if I could beat her back to the house.
Like the Cannondale, The Beast has languished in the cellar of the Turbopalace these recent years. There are a few country spots around where one might ride a mountain bike, but it just isn't the same as the sweet rural scene from my student days. Meanwhile, I've been driving a car back and forth to Green Acres, 116 miles round-trip, almost every day. It's not been fun.
Green Acres is coaxing one more week out of me-- my last day there postponed to June 22nd-- but soon I'll be downgrading my commute from 58 miles to 5.6 miles, and looking for an office even closer. Excited to return to bicycle transport, I hauled out The Beast and have given her a once-over. She has a new chain, new cogs, and new slick puncture-resistant tires with reflective sidewalls. New fenders. A new derailleur cable. I couldn't locate the old baskets, and had to buy a new set. But deep in a shoebox in the cellar, I found the loud, old horn.
posted by Turbo at 8:52 AM
4 Comments:
she's a beauty :)
did she get a new coat of paint, too?
nice wheels, tg.
may you can you give me a lift to work sometime.
I now have bike-envy...!(so jealous that you live close enough to work that you can cycle there! *grin*)
I'll keep an eye out for this trusty steed on my own commute to/from the northern suburbs.
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