Sticking Around

Readying for year 3.

Every December I strip the bike down. Clean and grease/ti prep the bottom bracket, seat tube, and headset. Install a new chain and every couple years swap out to a new chainring if need be. That's the beauty of running a singlespeed, very few parts to keep up or replace, and one of the main reasons it's why I ride what I ride.

Bath time. 

Simplicity, longevity, and ride quality are also behind the reasoning why I prefer a ti hardtail. Year after year, ride after ride, the smiles just keep coming. I'm not a fan of the model year upgrade-itis. The change the color, change the components and bam! new bike model. Madness.

Off with the old.

I've always admired Mary and Mike for racing at the Elite level on the same frames year after year after year. With all the money easily pissed away on biking exploits, it's hard to get behind dropping bills each year for a bike upgrade. I guess if I had more disposable income - or was raised differently - I might, but I don't and I wasn't. With the down economy, employment changes, being on-the-declining-side-of-the-bell-curve salary ladder, and an uncertain future, it's better to save than to receive.  

Despite the rumors of being delicate, my decals have endured well. 

Why am I babbling on about this drivel? A few things have been rattling around in my head and causing some consternation. One being the inevitability of needing a more capable commuter bike. The other being berated for not racing cross on a true cross machine. Everything coming with the caveat that "well, you were racing on a mountain bike", from talking cross to comments about race performance. Apparently, it's a faux pas. Akin to not matching bar tape to saddle, or stem manufacturer to handlebar. Meh.

With just the slightest peeling of a corner of the clear covering. 

I can barely afford to keep my mountain bike race ready, let alone double that maintenance cost for an often muddy, sandy, and rough on equipment adventure such as cyclocross. I only race a handful of cross races a year, not really justification for dropping a few G's on a race specific bike. The costs associated are prohibitive if I want to do it on the cheap, and approaches absurdity if I want to do it right.

Puzzles. I like puzzles.

However, the addition of a better equipped commuter bike that can help cut down the time on the road and double as a cross racing rig starts to chip away at some of those arguments. I find myself looking into all the available options, dreaming of the possibilities. Running the numbers, trying to make the round fit into the square fiscal future. Unlikely.

The life changing FS500. Mine had matching donuts on the grips. Sweet.

Yet there is something intriguing about a single bike to do it all. I like the challenge of the versatility Johnny Rigor offers. I can go from gravel to cross setups, xc racing to adventure racing, bike-packing to commuting, book delivery to pub crawls, bike polo to pumping tracks. Sure it's not always the most ideal setup, but it usually works out pretty well, the challenge is fun, and always, always puts a smile on my face. It reminds me of working twice as hard to keep up with my buddies riding to school on our bmx bikes. Them on their swanky freewheeled Predator and Rattlers, me on my heavy and kid cranks & coaster brake 1980 Free Spirit FS 500 (Which, next to my green machine, is still one of my favorite gifts ever received). Despite its shortcomings, the bike got me from point A to Z and all the points in between,  and never let me down in the woods. Freedom.

Kablam! Back in action.

So my frugal self will continue to wrestle with my consumeristic self and the battle will rage within for years to come. In the meantime, my bike is tuned up and ready for another year of adventures. I also managed to reincarnate my previously broken ultimate lever, saving me the cost and internal strife of replacement. Score.