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Thursday, May 8, 2014

Saying Goodbye

I bought myself a new bike for my trip a while back because my previous one was a low end model I purchased for $40 at a university auction a couple years ago and have since ridden and abused into oblivion. But, despite having a far nicer, new bike, I've still been riding my old one around town half the time because...uh, reasons. Largely because I've been overprotectively storing my new one in the basement to keep it dry and secure, while my old one has been conveniently locked up outside. Last night, the styrofoam seat literally broke apart so I was damn near riding on the post, and the patch put on the inner tube a couple weeks back (since it just wasn't worth it to put a new inner tube on my old bike) decided to give. It was like my bike was telling me it was done, that this was it, it was finally time for it to be retired.

It was strange realizing how much that made me feel. I have memories with that bike, picking it out with my best friend, riding it with another friend on the Nacho Ride (It's a bike ride to the next town over, where there's a pub, and they sell nachos, at a slightly discounted but still costly rate), and just all the endless general use around town. I have lots of good memories of my (even lower quality) bike before it too, which I mounted a basket on and used to go on a couple brief, but crazy, bike camping trips many years back.

Every bike has stories to tell. And after having it carry you for miles and miles, it's hard to help feeling just a little attached. I know lots of people who name their cars, endow them with personalities, feel connected to them. I don't drive, myself, and I don't ever name my bikes or really consider them in such an animated fashion, perhaps because I'm still riding under my own power, rather than driving something powered by internal combustion. But still, I think I get it. Your vehicle is something special, you learn to love it (and hate it), and you miss it when the time comes to say goodbye.

Goodbye my good old, awful, department store Avalon cruiser. Thanks for carrying me as far as you did.

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