I have been trying to sell my bike. Its really hard. I am too attached. The places I have gone on it since getting it for high school graduation in 1997 (OLD!). I have ridden the streets of Seattle, Portland, The Dalles, Philadelphia, and briefly LA. And the good times…
The summer after high school biking home in the warm night, social cigarette hanging off my fingertips. The tape box made for its tire when my dormmate put tape downt the middle of our room during Freshman year in college (bitch, conscientious bitch but still a bitch). Riding the hot dry streets of The Dalles. Biking to work almost everyday as a graphic designer in the rain and sun. Going flying into pavement after tempting the trolly tracks one to many times and the bikers behind me helping until my cousin could pick me up and take me to the ER. Drunkingly running into the side of the esplanade while biking home late after my work goodbye party. Riding to nursing school on the streets of Philadelphia while happily screaming and flipping off other drivers and bikers alike (both are assholes). Biking home during an amazing Eastcoast thunder/lightning storm and drenching rain. And finally placing my bike in the Pod to travel across the country yet again.
I have gone many places on my bike and I would not say goodbye except, I realize, it is time. Its not just how small our loft is or how unbikeable the streets are here–its time. Its time that when I do start biking in LA (if I do) I need a nicer bike. My bike needs a younger person determined to commute through LA traffic and smoke and drink and crash and have fun on it. For us, those are over.e