A Tale of Two Bikes

A Tale of Two Bikes
There are good bikes, and there are...well, good bikes. I guess what I'm trying to say is that all bikes, however different, are good. This is a brief tale of a few weeks, and of two of my bikes, told (somewhat) from the perspectives of Bunny and Maude.
If you follow me (and why would you not), you should by now be aware of the fact that I have recently expanded my stable of bikes. I now can enjoy my hobby (or my life, since so much of what makes me, revolves around my bikes) virtually year-round.

It was early February, and gleefully Bunny was liberated from her cardboard prison (aka: her shipping box), and into my waiting vehicle for the trip to her new home. After she took a quick spin around the block (and through a couple of yards) she settled into her new life. She spent the next few days in the basement; getting cleaned, lubed, and cleaned again. And waiting...so much waiting. Finally, it came, a snowy weekend! This was Bunny's element, time to play! She proceeded to show me a whole new facet of cycling, one I'd heard rumor of, but hadn't personally experienced. Bunny noticed the expression of joy on my face, and thought to herself, "Ha, Mick has a new favorite bike!" (While I  was indeed enjoying the ride, I never would call any of my bikes my favorite.) Bunny and I played for hours together, laughing and smiling, thumbing our noses at the worst that this winter could dish out. All good things must pass, however, and Bunny's fifteen minutes of glorious fame were soon to end as the weather slowly segued into spring.
Bunny had had her two weeks of glory, but all winters come to an end eventually (thank goodness). The snow is melting, the salt and cinders are slowly disappearing from the roads, and it’s suddenly Maude’s turn to play. She makes her way up from the basement where she has been biding her time, waiting for her climate-imposed hibernation to end. Out of the garage, into the sun, where the multiple coats of polish and her shiny new chain sparkled in anticipation. She glances at her shadow, and then at Bunny leaning in the garage. "You can't compete with these curves, babe" she thinks to herself, looking at Bunny's chunky figure, squared-off lines, and bulbous tires. Five hours later, Maude's first ride of the year is over, and I park her in the garage next to Bunny, wondering if they will both still be standing the next morning. Maude takes another excursion the next day, fighting the wind with me, for a total of almost 120 miles for the weekend. As I stow her in the garage next to Bunny, she mutters under her breath to her sister, "How do you like that, bee-yotch? That's more miles than you'll ride in a whole year." Bunny just ignores Maude’s taunts and silently, patiently waits for her next ride. I remind the pair that they'll be spending a lot of time together in the garage, and they will need to learn to get along.

Me? I'm just waiting to see the Dude's and Walter's response. 2015 appears to be shaping up into one fine, fun year!

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Image
  My Final Hours by Eddie I slip out of my slumber at about 4:00 am. I lie in the darkness for a bit, gathering my wits, figuring out just where I am. It slowly comes to me, I’m in my cozy bed, next to brother Dante’s similar bed, in my humans’ sleeping room. It’s dark and silent, but I need to get up…nature is calling. I struggle to rise to my paws, all my joints complaining with each movement. I slowly, painfully walk to my man-human’s side of their bed and grunt and groan to get his attention. He wakes, and gets out of bed, moving his mouth, but I don’t hear his words. He and my lady-human stopped making sounds with their mouths around two years ago, I don’t understand why, though. It started the same time when all of the sounds in our home began to fade. He leads me through the house to the eating room, to the doorway to the outside. He reaches to that spot on the wall that makes the room bright so I can see better. (My vision is fading as well, but still better tha...
Read more

The Last Hours

November 30, 2015 5:30 am Coffee greets me as I walk into the kitchen. A good way to start any day, even a day such as this, my last day of work at Mitsubishi. No lunch to pack this time, as I don't anticipate being in the plant past about 10:30. I will need to bring my own pen to use though, we have been told by the company. Seems a little cheap and petty, but I guess I'll play by their rules...for one last time. 6:30 am This is it. The turnstile swinging around, locking noisily behind me. We aren't sure just exactly what will happen today, we just know we will not be spinning the turnstiles tomorrow morning, as we each did some 6,000 times in the past. Rumor has it that we will be told to sit in our respective break areas until called in to the front lobby to sign our acceptance of termination. (My choice of words, not theirs. I just thought it better signified the proper weight of the occasion.) It's a damp dreary morning, perhaps befitting the somber ...
Read more

Forgive Me

Forgive Me, Corona, For I Have Sinned Social distancing...Isolation...Separation...Quarantine. Call it what you will. It’s not terribly enjoyable. I know some people are better at it than I am, and there are others who are less adept. Hopefully, in the big picture, enough of us are doing enough isolating to rein in the spread of Covid19. We do fine at home, just me and my wife, and Dante and Eddie (our dogs)...alone together. She still works full time remotely, so her work life continues as before, but the commute is shorter. I still have to go in to the bike shop to do my work, can’t really adjust that derailleur from home. The shop owners are doing an amazing job of keeping me isolated from the public. (A fact that benefits all.) Before I can even touch a bicycle, that bike has to be allowed in through locked doors, and sterilized with disinfectants before moving the bike back to my work area. Whether I’m fixing a flat, or doing a complete three-hour overhaul, I need not wor...
Read more