Apologies to the real thing, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance. A neat book when it came to the sections on maintenance, but totally lost on me otherwise. I never could figure out why that guy would let life come between him and his motorcycle.
I’ve been in a zen state myself the last few days, building up a new Terry frame built for me by Waterford. It’s a little bit of Valkyrie, a little bit of Isis and steel blue like the color of my eyes. If the bonding that’s going on now between woman and machine is any indication of the future, this bicycle will take me to Brigadoon and beyond. Of course, I say that about all my bikes….
It’s been a while since I’ve done a true from the “ground up” build, cutting the steerer tube and installing every component from scratch. I feel like I’m at a long overdue reunion, getting reacquainted with hacksaw, file and production cloth, feeling the weight and balance of well-made tools in my hands. Recognizing again the difference between the “clean” dirt of metal filings and grease and “dirty” dirt. I’m comfortable eating a sandwich in the presence of the former, but not the latter.
Sometimes I wonder what my bikes talk about in the wee hours of the morning when I’m sound asleep. Do they stir restlessly, waiting for the dawn, wondering what roads await them? Do they reminisce about rides they’ve done? And what will they tell this newcomer? Hopefully that a bicycle couldn’t find a better home!
Tailwinds,
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