But, as I got older, I realized the impracticality of said dream. I mean, look at the size of the garage you'd need! Oh, yeah, and you also need a lot of money to purchase all those babies, get them looking and working as pretty as they are, fuel 'em, insure 'em, and, yes, house 'em. So, I gave up on that dream, and revised it to something more manageable. Like this:
NOW we're getting somewhere! Well, WE might be, but he's not. Seriously, don't build your motorcycle collection in your basement. This is more manageable. Motorcycles, even classic and rare motorcycles, will be generally cheaper than cars. Not to mention taking up less room, and are easier to work on. While contemplating the purchase of my first iron hog, though, the universe made the decision for me, and TED provided the answer in the form of a talk at TEDxFlourCity 2014:
Insert sound of angles singing and visual of the clouds parting*.
Matt's talk inspired me. When I was a kid, you couldn't get my ass off my bicycle. Mostly because that was the only way to get anywhere, but every time I sat on the seat I felt the same rush of freedom I did the first time.
To All The Bikes I've Loved Before
Digression: when I was a wee, little one, my mom bought me my first bike. It was a slick, red dealie with training wheels. Training wheels that bent the first time I rode it. It went into the garage, and there it sat, unused, for a couple of years. When it was finally fixed and I decided to take it for a ride with my other 6 year old friends, I was laughed at for still having those training wheels, so again it went into the garage and there it sat until it was finally thrown away.
When I was in the second grade, I was playing with a friend at his house. For whatever reason, I decided to be a smartass (I know, completely out of character for me), and pretend to steal his bike. Ha ha. Seeing as I couldn't ride the damn thing, it would be a short joke. But, something happened. I got onto it, hit the pedals, and after a shaky first moment or two, I took off!! I remember looking down over at my feet pedaling as hard as I could, then looking back at the open driveway in front of me and the end of it narrowing and closing in on me.
And, I laughed. I laughed as I roared out of the driveway and across the street into the next. I laughed as I circled the block, and made a fast flyby of my friend where I shouted "Sorry!" as I left him in the dust shaking his fist at me. I laughed and smiled as my world shrunk down to an easily traversal distance.
I returned the bike to my friend, and headed home where I told my grandfather "I RODE A TWO-WHEELER!!!!" Soon after, one of these babies made it into my life (except in silver):
It was my feet. Everywhere I needed to go, I went on that bike. By the time I was done with it, it was beat up and twisted. It showed every one of my glorious rides somewhere in the baldness of its treads or scratches in its paint. Being 10, though, I was fairly fickle. I fell in love with this at the store one day, and that Xmas my grandparents surprised me with it.
I know there's a picture of me looking out my front door at it floating around somewhere. One would think it would be a look of pure joy, but it's more a "Why are they torturing me? That beautiful thing can't be mine....can it?"
I will grant the chopper was not that practical a bike. At the time I got it, we were living in a townhouse community that was just being built, and my friends and I spent a lot of time riding through the dirt and trees. But, I got that thing through whatever I needed to to get where I was going. Wish I knew what happened to that chopper.
Oh, that's right, I got older. When I hit high school, I decided it was apparently time for me to "grow up", so I got what every bigger kid gets, a 10-speed.
Yup, mine was that ugly yellow, although it didn't have a rack. Unfortunately, I never really loved that bike. Probably having to do with all the times I broke my nuts on the gear shifters. Probably had more to do with my learning how to properly navigate Philly's transit system to get around, and thus less need for a bike.
Fast forward to 1996, when I decided I needed a bike again. I was getting a bit wide in the seat, and needed to trim it down. Enter, the Giant Iguana:
The moment I saw it at Towner's Bike Shop, I knew it was the one for me. Not sure why it caught my eye, but it was mine. I got some level of use out of it. I fondly remember the look on my ex-wife's face when I came home from a trip out with my friend Mike with a bloody leg from a nasty fall down a hill. Unfortunately, she never really got into biking, and so it sat in the garage unused.
Digression over. Yeah, I have long digressions.
So, after watching Matt's talk (remember that? Yeah, it's way back there), I decided I needed an e-bike. Since I had a perfectly good bike sitting in the garage, and some level of electronics skill, I decided to combine the two. After completely disassembling the Iguana to bare metal, I mentioned to my wife how much the batteries for this thing were going to cost me. After the fully justified "WTF??", she decided to hit Craigslist and in moments found this:
It was a 2008 Schwinn World GSE. Owned by an 87-year-old man who rode it every day, it looked practically brand new! When I asked why he was selling, he responded "I'm 87, and those are 27" tires. I can't get my leg over it anymore." Fair enough.
It went home with us, and I rode my old-man bike pretty much every night after getting our daughters to bed. Wow! It was biking, but with effectively no hills! Just what my old ass needed. I fell in love immediately with e-biking, and have continued to annoy anyone who would listen, get trapped in a corner, or read my blog about it since.
I love that bike so much, but the battery is getting long in the tooth and Schwinn provides no replacements. The distance I could take it got shorter and shorter over the course of the summer, until winter hit and I was off the road anyway. Then, I ran into one of these in a store one day:
Wowie-wow-wow! What the hell is THAT? That, my friends, is the Mongoose Dolomite, the cheap Walmart knockoff version of a recent fad in mountain biking: the fat tire bike. Those 4" tires allow you to do everything you normally can on a mountain bike, but also do it in the snow or on the beach. And, yup, there are e-bike versions! I very quickly decided my next bike needed to be a fattie, so I started doing research.
I finally settled on getting a Dolomite as a base. All of the reviews I read for it were really good. "For $200, you get a fat bike that's as much fun to ride as a $3000 version!" Granted, the mechanicals were always pointed out as something you'd want to eventually upgrade, but I was looking at it as a base for an e-bike and thus as a cheap frame so that wasn't an issue for me.
Winter was ending, and I wanted to go riding, but knew I'd never get this new fattie built in time for Summer so decided to instead wait until the end of Summer (when they'd be even cheaper) and I'd have a Winter project. Obviously sensing me pining for a fattie e-bike, my wife said one night "Hmmm...let me check Overstock.com...", and minutes later...
...Oh, this is getting too long. I should just end here. ;-)
° I don't believe in angels, but I do believe in angles.
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