One thing is wonderful

One thing is wonderful. Redemption. When you can look at someone or something and see their potential not their current state of being.
Two things are wonderful to me.
Redemption and wheels. Wheels are magical aren’t they. I especially love the way you can start with flimsy bits and end up with a strong true bicycle wheel. One on my mind was first built in 1974 in France. I redeemed it from the dump. Stripped cleaned and rebuilt so I can ride on it again.
SO Three things are wonderful to me.
Redemption, wheels and cycling. I first started cycling seriously when I was teenager.
I knew nothing and no one
But I’d seen a picture of Bernard Thevenet in Mike McCauliffe’s shop and I knew there was a race called the Tour de France which he had won on a Peugeot.
I pedalled over the local hills pretending I was him. At 45 I now know how to win and how to train but I have a curse. It’s the curse of the bicycle restorer. I just can’t help picking up that old stuff at the dump and making it new again. If I’d spent the time training I’m sure I’d be a champion even now.
…..Except maybe for the talent and the commitment required….
But really the best thing about cycling is the people you meet and the ones you don’t meet. I can ride for hours and be by myself.
Or I can meet up with others in a social bunch and thrash about until we get to the coffee shop.
Life is good

The Curse of the Bicycle Restorer

or...Why I never win races
Redemption is a wonderful thing. When you can look at someone or something and see their potential not their current state of being. With objects you can at least set about making that evident to the rest of the world, seeing the potential fulfilled. I am gifted with such sight but it is a curse when it comes to bicycles because I am also gifted with the ability to fix them. How can this be a curse you ask.
In at least two ways actually.
Firstly it means the garage becomes a collection of bicycles and parts in various states of repair. One trip to the dump starts a new chain of events when that old frame becomes the starting point for a whole new collection of parts. Then trips past other second hand shops become necessary just to check for any bargains or rare wonders like wheels with stainless steel spokes going cheap. Did you know that even a bent wheel can be dismantled and the rim carefully coerced back to ‘flat’. Then it can be rebuilt into a strong straight wheel again. This takes a lot of time of course and a large amount of complaining from the family as you tweak spokes in front of the telly.
Secondly the curse strikes as time off bicycles. The time spent on bicycles is not spent on a bike riding away into the beautiful distance. Instead it is in the workshop getting dirty hands. I have no doubt I could have become World Masters Champion by now in any number of disciplines had it not been for the fact that I rarely have time to train. On that spare afternoon when I think I will just go out and do a 100 kilometres and start getting into form I am distracted by the bike that is nearly complete. Or perhaps just briefly by the wheel that could be tested on this very ride if I just finish truing it and find a tube that stays inflated. 40 k’s will have to do now. Woe is me. Will I ever fulfil my potential?
Worse is yet to come for after all this work I am usually left with a fine bicycle (or 2) but few people in the world appreciate such things. I can never sell it for what it is really worth and usually I am lucky to just get back the cost of the new parts and paint I had to buy. It warms the heart to find someone who will actually ride it regularly and I’m happy to give bikes free! to these rare individuals. My wife thinks I deliberately apply RP7 as cologne to attract them.
In many other ways I suppose I am actually lucky. I enjoy seeing a bike restored and I live in an area where the local councils make it easy to recycle cycles. The man at the tip is surprised if I check out their recycling depot and wish to purchase anything but bike bits. Anything less than an entire bicycle will rarely cost more than a dollar.
And after all perhaps I am not made to be a champion but instead I’m fulfilling some kind of mechanical potential in rescuing that next bike from oblivion. I mean, just look at those dropouts. And you never see those french deraliers anymore. Perhaps I’ll just take that home in case I come across some old wheels that would match it. I think I still have those Normandy hubs…..