Overhaul and maintenance.

Recently, Iwas doing prelim maintenance on my ride. Meaning that I clean the chain, wipe off fouling from the cassette, and lube the whole thing. Polishing the frame and derailleurs. Lubing the gear mechs. Checking for spoke fatigue. All the greasy but neccessary crap. It just made me think...what's my bike to me? I've come pretty far from being that snot-nosed kid who thought that singlespeeds were cool 'cos you could pedal like a maniac on them. Back then, my mech was nothing more than a more dangerous toy, an alternative form of entertainment. Lately, I've realized this isn't the case. My buddies tell me that on the pedals, I'm a whole different person. I prefer to think that the bike infuses its personality into me. Being on it just opens up my world; introduces new dimensions. All the crazy skids, switchblades, jumps I pull off...it's just not who I usually am. Yet I've been there, done that. Sure, there's been a wipeout or two here and there 'cos I didn't pay attention to what I was doing. Yet I'm not haunted by these failings. I consistently bite off more than I can chew, yet I routinely survive those sticky situations. I've never been forced to endure the humiliation of doing a flip over my own handlebars and being run over by my bike, something touted as a coming-of-age ritual for most mountain bikers. Why? I realize my bike is no longer a metal mech. It's become, in many ways, a part of me; in fact, it's a neccessary extension of myself. I'm told not many cyclists have the chance to feel this way. I guess I'm rather lucky. Or, to be narcissistic, I could say it's natural talent. It means the same thing to me.

~Ride fast, ride safe.~