impatient voyages

Remember the "ipod nod"? Back when only a select few had ipods and they were far from touch screen? And those white earbuds would qualify you for that so-geeky-it's-chic, sage nod from another ipod owner? That secret, shared understanding of owning something...superior?
I like how that died within a year as ipods and Apple just continued to take over the world. Now everyone has one, it's just another gadget attesting to your status [or lack thereof]. There's nothing special about owning one anymore. No more of that exclusiveness. No more of that excitement that comes with belonging in a special group of the select few who really, truly understand.
Bikes are different though. Proof? I saw two pairs of excited eyes yesterday that seemed to hum with elation. I nearly nodded.
After a [miserable] run and then a bike ride downtown, I showered then hopped back on the bike to get drenched in my own sweat all over again. Because Marcus was putting the finishing touches on his new 'cross bike, and invited me on its maiden voyage. Like I could ever miss this. I skipped into IBC, dumped my bike next to Wes's Merckx [hottt!] and clopped my cleated feet over to 2nd Cup for some coffee.

Picking my way back to the shop, I saw a guy who had just purchased a Trek. And just before he pushed off onto the street, I asked him if it was New Bike Day. He happily answered in the affirmative and, with bright, happy eyes, jumped onto his new steed. It never gets old, that feeling. Even when it's not your own bike...because you know. You understand.
Back at IBC, I climbed the stairs with caffeine in one hand and a camera in the other, and paparazzi-ed Marcus as he put the finishing touches on his new baby. I seemed to be the most impatient person there; I couldn't wait until it was ready to be ridden, and I literally jumped up and down with excitement when I first saw it, it was so so so close to being complete.

Bars wrapped perfectly [by Chris], cables adjusted, chain measured out, and pedals finally installed, we headed out for a quick ride down Comm Ave. And wow, is that bike hot. In the light of the setting sun, the silver frame looks almost white, and seemed to shift like butter. My knee was being stupid but with vicarious excitement coursing through my muscles and fueled by adrenaline, I was springing up the hills, alternating between following Marcus and leading.
We parted ways after babbling about practicing dismounts, jogging, and how good his frame is going to look with mud splattered all over it. Plans are in the works for practicing and falling over our bikes in dark fields when no one else is around. It's going to hurt and probably be slightly miserable.
As usual, I can't wait.

velo love

I remember the first time I rode something I knew I couldn't control.
A black, half-trained filly - back in the days when I was obsessed with real ponies/horses - everything had to be done in reverse. Pulling on the reins made her tuck her head in resolutely and take off. The natural human reaction of leaning forward and squeezing your legs around her in response to the unexpected acceleration just egged her on. She was prone to sprinting out of control and rendering riders into frustrated tears. No one really wanted to ride her.
I was terrified as I was handed the reins. But even with the unhelpful "don't pull on the reins to stop her," it turned out to be a match - for one brief summer - made in heaven. There was a way to slow her down [pull, release, pull, release, give, take, give take], and I learned how to manage to stay on something that clearly had its own agenda [stay calm, lean back, don't freak out]. We got each other...or at least to the point where I wasn't galloping out of control while my classmates watched in horror and pity.

Years later, I found myself test riding a half-built customized bike on hand-built wheels, the thick steerer tube still uncut, brakeless, and on flat pedals. Finally understanding the meaning of the words "stiff," and "responsive," that taste of fear, excitement, and acknowledgment of a lack of an adequate sense of control came flooding back to me. I knew this bike wanted to accelerate, and never stop, and that sort of terrified me.
She's made to go fast, as Erich accurately pointed out. And he would know, as this is almost more his baby than mine. I felt a little strange rolling it out of the shop, back on the street where a few people gave me interested glances. The weirdest thing was that none of those people knew that it was New Bike Day for me, or that I was popping my track bike cherry, or that I felt more than a little guilty walking that bike away from its surrogate home for the past two months.

But most importantly, they don't know how much love has been poured into this bike. And I'm not talking about how much I've been petting the frame. It's the too many late hours Erich's put in, the collective excitement [feigned or otherwise] at IBC when I brought in parts for the bike, Chris's adamant desire to play a part in the build, and Eric constantly telling me how pretty it is. And maybe that's the best reward; building something with a group of people who I consider solid, real friends [and yes, I feel that my "watching" constitutes participation]. I can't thank you guys enough, and I'm going to love her to absolute pieces. It's good to know, too, that she'll always be welcome at 89 Brighton Ave.
And yeah, this is definitely a match made in heaven.
[More pics - like of the drive side - coming soon...]
For the bike nerds:
Frame: Dolan Pre Cursa -- 45cm [on 700cc wheels!] -- customized by Erich at IBC Wheels: Velocity Deep V's laced with DT Swiss Competition double-butted spokes to Miche Primato hubs [double-fixed] -- built by Erich at IBC Bars: Nitto B123 with Champ grips Crankset: Sugino messenger Brake: Dia-Compe "deluxe pearl" Saddle and seatpost: Soma Ensho [glitter white] and Alpina seatpost Pedals: MKS Sylvan [from my old bike; switching to clipless soon] Gearing: 46/17 [because I have hills to climb]

bikes are...forever?

Yeah, okay, I can't keep this secret.
I thought about trying, and then one day being like BAM! NEW BIKE! WHAAAAAAATTT! Buuuuut, that's obviously not going to work out. I was probably the last one to see that, probably because I was busy jumping up and down and clapping my hands in glee. Because Erich had a box for me at the shop today.
He had to actually encourage me to pull this out and unwrap it. It's unreal. I can't believe that she's mine.

And yes, it's tiny: a 45cm track bike that takes 700cc wheels. The only one I could find that wouldn't require a custom job [and oodles of money], and that I could comfortably stand over. The decals are coming off [sorry Terry, but I'm not too keen on advertising your website wherever I go], and it's going to go through lots of changes.
And money. And time. When I mentioned how broke this bike was making me, the conversation inevitably turned to how pissed girlfriends might be if certain guys spent more money on their bikes. We unanimously came to the conclusion, however, that those expenses were almost always justified:
Jeremy: But girlfriends come and go...bikes will...
Me: Last you at least five years.
'Nuff said.
Note: the $$$ Trek mountain bike behind my new frame. That thing is more bike than I could ever hope to own.