I have never toiled in a bike shop. In some ways saying that feels like an admission of guilt. But the truth is that I still enjoy working on bikes, however ham-handedly.
In the last three years I have tinkered my way through a succession of Craigslist finds, fixing up each of them, riding them around town and then selling them to move on to another project. I tell myself that each one is a keeper, but I’m now admitting that none of them are. Their lives with me are destined to be short and sweet, during which they are well-loved and regularly ridden. Friends and family roll their eyes at me.
I always have a ready excuse for why a bike needs to go: this one was too big, that one didn’t have rack and fender mounts, etc. Those reasons have so far all been true, but are mostly secondary to the enjoyment of getting to experience another relic of cycling’s past and give it a little love while we are together. I also enjoy passing off a refurbished, beautiful bicycle to its next owner.
My itch to tinker with bicycles started in my early twenties after I spent two months riding coast-to-coast. During the course of 3,300 miles of riding, I only had to fix three flats, but the rest of that then-12-year-old Cannon dale had needs that put me on a bike mechanics crash course. I had to learn about taking care of chains, cables and brake pads. I got intimate with the needs of threaded headsets and 32-spoke wheels. I re-wrapped handlebar tape for the first time (which made me feel fancy).
Esta historia es de la edición Issue 42 de Bicycle Times Magazine.
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Esta historia es de la edición Issue 42 de Bicycle Times Magazine.
Comience su prueba gratuita de Magzter GOLD de 7 días para acceder a miles de historias premium seleccionadas y a más de 9,000 revistas y periódicos.
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