Miyata 610

                       I work my legs
                       I pump my thighs
                       Take in the scenery passing me by
                       The Kerry mountains or the Wicklow hills
                       The antidote to my emotional ills
                       A motion built upon human toil
                       Nuclear free, needs no oil
                                      ***
                       So come on, get up on your bike
                       Ah go on, get up on your bike
                       Pedal on, pedal on, pedal on for miles, pedal on
                                                  (Luka Bloom, Acoustic Motorbike)

This summer I needed movement.  I considered buying a bike, but instead, I took my old bike from the garage where it had been gathering dust for years.  I did a little research.  According to Wikipedia, my old Miyata 610 touring bike has "triple-butted splined Chromoly frame tubing."   Um, I knew that...  It was regarded as a quality touring bike, not top of the line, but certainly good enough for my needs.  I also found a blog from Annie, who fell in love with her 610 after it languished for years in her Vermont garage.  Alright, then. 

I had Cranky's outfit her with a new saddle and tires and soon rediscovered how great it felt to take her out, the countryside flashing by, my heart pumping and thighs burning. We were like old pals.
 
Soon memories of our past exploits flooded back. The very day I bought her I cycled from West Point Grey to New Westminster, then south to Tsawwassen to catch a ferry to Vancouver Island and on to Saltspring Island.  There was the time I wiped out on a patch of black ice only to discover a beaming middle-aged woman peering down at me from the window of her van.  As I got to my feet she happily informed me that I was the 8th person to crash there in an hour.  Then she rolled up her window to wait for number 9.   A more serious crash netted me a dislocated shoulder, a concussion that knocked me out cold, and a physiotherapist who later became my wife.  There were cycling trips with friends I haven't seen for years. Great memories. Funny memories.

There is something comforting about being happy with what we have in a world that seems endlessly bent on replacing everything with something new and improved.  This old bike is a gem. I would never trade her in.

                     Stuff that works, stuff that holds up
                     The kind of stuff you don't hang on the wall
                     Stuff that's real, stuff you feel
                     The kind of stuff you reach for when you fall  
                                               (Guy Clark, Stuff That Works)
 
Winter has come early to St. Albert this year, bringing an end to the road biking season.  I could hang my new old friend up in the garage, but then again, maybe I'll find a training stand and just keep going.