Every Cycle Tells a Story.

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Today, I donated this bike to a local shop that trains kids to be bike mechanics and provides free/discounted bikes to kids who need them.  A damned good fate for a 40 year old bike.  But this bicycle has stories to tell, and I want to share them.

This bicycle belonged to a wonderful person named Kate.  Under the tutelage of serious rider friend Scott, she went to a bike store in Chicago to buy this one.  Hand-welded in Wisconsin by a then little known but up and coming brand named Trek, it was most notably the first bike that ever fit her 6’ frame.

Kate and I were married shortly thereafter, and though she was never much of a rider, it got some occasional use.  Mostly, it moved with us through the 4 address-changes before the first (and only for us together) house.  Then our daughter was born, and it sported a handle-bar mounted seat, a trailer, and a rear seat at one time or another.

One famous ride was taking my daughter to day care in the rain.  I draped my poncho over her in the rear seat, completely sheltering her from the rain.  Up until the instant I had to pick her up, thence dumping every accumulated drop into the seat’s bucket and soaking her to the point of using up a complete change of clothing at day care.  My daughter and I laughed crazily the whole time. One of many good rides.  This bike was also the ride where we invented bike polo.  It was fun and physics, kicking the ball to or away from each other while rolling.  Eventually, in 95, I used my severance pay to buy a recumbent and this bike began it’s long rest.

Not without it’s biggest adventure, getting stolen from our apartment’s garage in Oak Park.  Just a few days later, one of the forensics officers who originally responded happened to see a bike in the park out of the corner of his eye.  Electrical tape had been wrapped around the majority of the main bars, but this officer must’ve been enough of a bike fan to know what it was.  In what we now recognize as a form of harassment, he talked the kids out of the bike and returned it to us.  It enjoyed rare use by owner, daughter, and myself, while being moved to another 6 addresses.

It has survived its owner by 12 years, I’ve kept it in tribute and love. But realistically, it’s like one of those collector toys from the Pixar movie.  It’s meant to be RIDDEN, to aid in people acquiring experiences and enjoying adventures.  With even vague care it could survive for decades of use.  I don’t care if it ends up painted some obtuse shade, fixie’d, and carrying some white hipster’s man-bun around Uptown.  I just want to spend my days now remembering the adventures it’s had and contemplating all the places it will be in the future.

Take a moment to appreciate your bicycle.  Take it out for a ride and say “Kate” to the wind for me.  I’m going to go do that right now.