***It’s the week between Christmas and New Year’s Day. I’m not formally blogging and this is not a post. This is just us hanging around and talking.***
Further to yesterday’s non-post, if those are the bikes I could never get rid of, then it follows that I could conceivably get rid of the rest.
But could I?
It’s easy to pick the bikes you’d never get rid of, but it’s much harder to stare into the sad puppy eyes of the rest and tell them that you would. Here are those puppies:
Litespeed
Navin Johnson always wanted a bathtub shaped like a clam:
Similarly, at the turn of the last century, I always wanted a snazzy titanium road bike. Well, 20 years later I finally got one, and it was everything I hoped it would be.
So how could I possibly say I’d consider getting rid of it?
Well, it’s possibly the finest road bike I’ve ever owned, and it’s certainly a perfect distillation of the 21st century road bike ethos. At the same time, the Milwaukee can do everything the Litespeed can do, but the Litespeed can’t clear wide tires or accept fenders, so if I had to send one of them packing it would have to be the Litespeed. Not that I want to. But I would.
Soma
I’ve always enjoyed fixed-gear bikes, despite the many years I spent ridiculing them. In fact, my enjoyment of fixed-gear bikes is precisely why I ridiculed them. It was tough seeing something I enjoyed turned into this:
Actually, that was two things I enjoyed, since the GT Performer on which the above bike was based was the hot bike when I was a young BMXer.
Anyway, after not having a fixed-gear for awhile I treated myself to the Soma above, which now that I think of it looks kinda like that Performer homage if you squint. But it wasn’t long before my elder son grew into it, and since he was involved in Star Track I basically turned it over to him. Now that he’s set that aside it’s reverted to me, and I still enjoy it ever time I ride it, but I’d be lying if I said I ride it a lot. I like having a fixed gear, and I’m especially grateful for it when the weather’s foul, I want to ride, but I don’t want to subject a dainty derailleur drivetrain to all that grime. But I don’t ride it nearly as often as my other bikes, and the fact is if I need to ride a fixed-gear the State I used in that “How to lock up a bicycle in New York City” video would probably do just as well…though if I were to get rid of a fixed-gear it should probably be the State and not the fancy Soma:
Maybe I should consult the SomaDex.
The Normcore Bike
Ah, the Normcore Bike: the only bicycle I’ve owned twice. (It’s not the actual physical same bike as the one I had many years ago, but it’s the same bike. You know what I mean.)
Could I live without it? Sure. Is the world’s supply of 1980s bonded aluminum Treks in any danger of being depleted within our lifetimes? Absolutely not–they’re arguably the cockroach of road bikes. Am I asking too many rhetorical questions? Well, I put it to you: is there really such a thing as too many rhetorical questions? Do you see what I did there? (Don’t answer, it’s a rhetorical question.)
The point is I could certainly divest myself of this bike but it’s currently my elder son’s school commuter now so it’s not going anywhere. In fact I can’t shake the eerie feeling that somehow I’ll still have this bike even when all the others are gone.
The Faggin
I first acquired the Faggin as a frame in 2007 and built it into a singlespeed for my wife. Then we moved to the New York City hill country so I stripped it down and stuck it deep in the closet (see what I did there?) figuring one day I’d build it up into an Eroica bike or something like that. Instead I recently created the city runabout you see above, and it is delightful in that regard: spritely and modish without being precious.
But do I need a sprightly and modish urban runabout? Not necessarily; the Homer can handle all my urban cycling needs and can carry panniers to boot. Still, like leaving a deer hoof in the grill of your car, I’m pretty sure it’s a sin to get rid of a classic Italian frame:
Also, at some point it deserves to be reconstructed into an actual road bike again, at least for awhile.
But I don’t need it.
The Engin
It’s a fully custom bike, it’s fantastic, and I congratulate myself for it every time I ride it. But it’s also a singlespeed, so I don’t ride it as much as my other bikes. In my peak singlespeeding years we’d pile into a car and go zipping around some mountain bike spot; now I ride to the trails, and doing so on a singlespeed requires an additional time investment–a commodity in short supply for a middle-aged parent. And on top of that, the Engin also has a stunt double…
The Cheap Singlespeed
Really, the jones has me fully covered for mountain bike-type riding, and I don’t need even one singlespeed mountain bike, let alone two. At the same time I very much enjoy singlespeed mountain bikes, and a sane person would only have one–you know, the custom one that’s basically perfect. But here we are.
The RockCombo
I love this bike. There’s a universe in which this could replace the Homer, the Platypus, and the Jones. But I don’t live in that universe. The Rivendells are more comfortable and better at carrying stuff, and the Jones is more off-roadable. Still, the RockCombo manages to do all that stuff while somehow still feeling fast like a road bike, even with heavy treaded tires and fenders and all the rest of it. It’s also one of those bikes I’ve sort of ridden into perfection with judicious parts changes.
But it’s rare, which makes it attractive to certain people, and between you and me I’m currently “in talks” with a prospective buyer. Though we’ll see. I wouldn’t typically write about that sort of thing in a blog post, but this is not a real blog post.
And because it’s not a real blog post, it doesn’t need a real ending.
And so you don’t get one.
…