As I opened the door, it made a jingle noise, and I looked down at a bell attached to a 11 tooth chain ring. I reveled in the finer details of life as I walked in to the back to wait by the shop to pick up my wheel.
As I was waiting to pay, and old man with an accent and a younger Asian woman were asking crazy questions about front baskets, and the phone was ringing and the UPS truck was there. When it rains it pours on a typically non-busy day of the week for a little bike/ski shop. There was the hint of tri-flow in the air. There were new skis on the wall ready for the snow to come. I paid the respectable $10 fee (and he would have done it for me right then and there the day I brought it in) and left a happy customer.
As I walked out, the bell jangled again, and I stepped out into the crisp, warm fall air of Nevada with a little grin on my face and an ache in my heart for the bike shops of my life that I miss.
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| From Olympic Bike Shop in Tahoe City, CA |
It brought me back to a month ago, when I got to pick out a used bike from a retired couple North of Reno. I had responded to a craigslist ad. I promptly got a phone call from a Southern accented woman. She said, "oh come on up and if you don't like this one, we have many more to choose from. It's my husband's hobby".
I really wanted the pink GT Tequesta because I love those old GTs. It was for someone with a much shorter inseam than I.
The husband was somewhat deaf, and the wife had to repeat herself. He insisted on wheeling the bikes out the the road for me to try them. His gait uneven, and myself having worked with the elderly, just hoped he didn't fall and hurt himself.
After having gone for a spin on a bike that merely distracted me, that I didn't need, as the style was not what I was looking for (baby blue Schwinn 5 speed who's model slips my mind), the wife excitedly told her husband, "Honey, this is the girl that works in the [Wild-ER-nis]."
Although being hard of hearing, he immediately corrected her pronunciation and wheeled the Schwinn back to the garage.
"We like going over Ebbetts Pass," she said. "Every year we take our camper and camp near the wilderness."
"We came from poor roots, and now we couldn't be more blessed," she went on. "We just love to go on trips with our camper and we even buy bikes on our vacation. People can't believe we bring them back with us, but we just love it, " she added.
They said they get a lot of University of Nevada students coming to pick out bikes, and I'd surely find one I like. The whole back yard was divided up into $100 range bikes, $200 range bikes, and the higher priced bikes.
"The students like the fixies," the wife said.
The husband adjusted the bike in the stand that I decided to buy. A Peugot mountain bike, oddly, Made In Canada, just like my other used bike back in VT (A CCM 3 speed bike).
"Come back next time you're ready to buy a different bike," she said with a sweet smile.
The husband was all ready to take the front wheel off and try to lift the bike onto my roof, but I insisted I do it.
"She really knows her stuff, this girl, " he said to his wife.
I apologized for getting there after dinner, and thanked them for their time.
"Anytime dear," she said. "We do this for fun. It's his hobby. Good luck with your travels."
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| Can't San Fransisco people get their own "Put some fun between your legs" stickers instead of taking mine off my bike at a music festival? |
If it weren't dark out I would have taken a photo that would adequately have documented this experience.
Instead I have the photo of the top tube and sticker that I so happily put on my "new" bike for my Hardly Strictly Bluegrass Festival ride across Golden Gate Bridge. Which on the second day of the event (I surmise) got stolen off my bike by a bike valet, who's job it was to protect my bike. So my next sticker will be "fuckyoubikethief",which my co-worker with the USFS has on her bike. Maybe I'll just have back up of these stickers from Local Motion, if they still make them.
Oh the places you'll go.
Sidenote:
My used bicycle had thorns in the tires, causing a flat on the Golden Gate Bridge on the way to see my favorite old time country singer, Merle Haggard. Prior to that the rear wheel wasn't in the dropout all the way. We saw 2 1/2 Haggard songs due to me having to keep stopping to pump my tire up.
With that aside, I still am fond of the retired bicycle fixer-uppers. The fact that they are late 70s or older and still fixing bikes, going on vacations, and using the internet to sell bikes is a big kudos to them from myself.
We got a tube at the festival from the Luna Chix race manager. Crazyyyyyy. And I now have new tires (from Big Daddy's) and room for 2 of the 3 bikes I have out here on my car.
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