Since the beginning of my Dutch adventure, there has always been one constant; and no its not the cold, neither is it the near homicidal winds, nor the erratic weather patterns but the availability of a means of two wheeled, non-motorised transportation.
The chronology of those that I have come into contact with and involved with can be traced in earlier versions of this here blog but for the sake of memory, we shall delve just a bit into the past.
First there was Blackie (later christened St. Blackie due to her boundless magnanimity). She, who accepted and shieleded all stray noises and gave them a place to call home, I proudly owned and took all over the place but sadly retired herself in a moment of suicidal insanity that left her destroyed and yours truly limping for a week.
Next came Newbie, lithe, fast and in great condition. Run well for a couple of months and even accepted to take on some of the traits exhibited by her predecessor (maybe it was a haunting, or Blackie just looking out for me - we shall never know). Took on noises left, right and centre and then one day, just refused to work. I should have taken a hint when her back brakes just seized up for no reason mid cycle to class one morning rendering that ride a cardio-vascular session. Then she unceremoniously broke four spokes in one ride and two more on subsequent rides. Finally she gave out and just refused to move; what option did I have but to let her go?
Then there was the 'Greyhound'; a sturdy city bike with working light systems, gears and systems at al. Perfect workhorse that could cart across the city in record time on demand or just cruise around at slow speeds for random cycle work. What a bike that was; no complaints whatsoever about 'The greyhound' I dare say...well till the day that it was nicked from the parking lot outside my house...stunned was the only expression I had on my face for a couple of days, and the mystery surrounding that remains just that, a mystery.
So now I cycle around on a brilliant bike. However, for fear of history repeating itself inexplicably, I have refused to name it. The bike is capable of 21 speed and has extra handle bars, handles brilliantly and is as light as light can get on a heavy duty bike. But as is characteristic of all those that have passed through my possession, magnanimity has not eluded even this one. The home of all noises seems to have been moved from all the bikes I had previously and is now in the cogs and chains of this here bike but I fret not. Apparently, this is a good sign; fast track to potential naming soon and after that the sky is the limit.
How brilliant can this get...nameless one, on to you..
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