The Cheetah, putting things right

I have been reluctant to enter, My back room. You may be shocked to see what I keep back here, parts of dismembered bicycles. After a year of hacking up my favorite bikes I have repented my ways. Come with me and see if I can make things right.

Left dangling by its heel, my first mountain bike, a venerable chromemoly frame, the most comfortable bike I had ever rode, stripped of all its dignity. It called, I entered.

The Raleigh, it did'nt like electricity, to modern, it balked, kicked back, tried to throw me, I did not listen, it has hung silently, calling me back. I entered this room today. I listened. I want to pedal again, electricity has its place. Electricity took something from me, I have not rode a bicycle in a year. How could I? Parts of 5 bicycles made my cheetah. Even my mountain Raleigh has parts on it that do not belong, the seat from my Raleigh tourer, the fork and handlebars from my aluminum Mongoose. All forgotten. With my quest, my dream, my vision of what I had to have.

The Raleigh looks down, I look down, then I understand, what I destroyed. Curb hopping, tree ducking, skidding to a stop, taking the shortcut between houses. Sweat, not with electricity. I scarred my Raleigh, deep welds, they cannot be undone. She is tough, the scars will be a remindor, not just cosmetic, I won't repaint. I'll spray them black, as a remembrance.

She will get her parts back, and more. Better tires, carefull lubrication, new freewheel and chain.

My backroom, a junkyard.

No more, each bike will be carefully put together and rode again.

chuck