Having graduated from college a year prior and needing a more reliable form of transportation, Rachel decided it was time to buy a bike that wasn't older than she was, and thus purchased a 2011 Gary Fisher Lane named Vancouver. She took off the pedals and saddle from Henri, took her to a shop to find replacement bits, and sold her to a friend. Apparently Henri felt so betrayed that she adamantly refused to work for the new owner, and in spite of having been examined by a mechanic, got even more broken.
So after several months, Rachel got Henri back after work one day and tried to bike her home. She nearly fell off three times (because the rear wheel likes to cuddle up against the frame, which causes the wheel to slip out entirely--is this a broken hub???), threw Henri on the bus, went home, and now has a total of 3 bikes sitting in a very small hallway.
This is why you can't become too attached to bikes. Because they end up broken, in your hallway, and blocking your way to the laundry room. And then you end up writing blog entries in the third-person about an overly personified bicycle that has a personality, feelings, and apparently, an evil agenda.
....I'm not selling her again, that's for sure. I feel entirely too guilty about selling someone a broken bicycle. Henri may have a future life as a single speed with cruiser handlebars if I can find the parts for cheap enough.
This photo was actually published in Bicycle Times, and, less famously, on this blog.
Happier times for that bike.
On an entirely different note (pun not intended), this is a great song to have stuck in your head while biking.
Love the music. Makes me want to get on my bike on the open road and spin my fool head off.
ReplyDeleteThe tale of your Schwinn reminded me of Big Blue, my 1977 Raleigh Grand Prix. I bought it with a week's wages and rode it bike for 13 years, including 6 New England winters, until it literally started falling apart. (A fork blade broke off during a ride. Fortunately, I had stopped to check out the wobble in my front wheel when it happened.) I reluctantly gave it away. It was too expensive to fix and too hard to find parts (e.g., SunTour click shifters).
Aw...well hopefully it found a happy home elsewhere. Steel frames (old or new) are fantastic...I don't like aluminum, and carbon fiber is just too expensive and not practical for commuting.
ReplyDeleteWild piece of music. I loved the strings (incl. piano), and they were well played, but the whole was eminently noire. I could just imagine a prisoner trying to get out, and he keeps getting a running start, but can never overcome. I wanted to say twisted at first, but I think a more apt description could be stunted. Such beautiful sounds, but they just can't reach resolution!
ReplyDeleteOh yeah, and the dying bike? I also had a Raleigh Grand Prix, mine from '69. I rode it until I noticed a sizable crack in the right chainstay. Or should I say the mechanic I took it to noticed a crack and declined to fix it (obviously). It served me well for a couple years, and introduced me to the joys of riding (I'm sure that would sound better in French, but I can't tell you how it sounds), but ultimately, gave way to my present lover, Black Beauty.
ReplyDeleteA haiku of sorts:
Bike come and bike go.
Bike live on in happ' mem'ry.
Rest 'n peace, RGP, rest 'n peace.