Retro

I got Betty back in the early 2000s and loved the ride...until a couple summers ago when I quit loving the ride.

I made changes to the stem and to the seatpost to make it a bit more comfortable for a bit more time, then I dropped my name into an 18-24 month queue for a custom road rig. I’ve never been interested in the carbon bike that everyone has, and the steel ride I wanted just wasn’t found on the LBS floor.

Until one day it was.

In my size. Fillet brazed 853. Gloss black with white panels.

And I took it out for a long ride, just because I was curious.

It was lively.

And for the next ten months the ride picked small battles with the custom-lugged-953 in my head. My LBS buddies would comment on the bicycle when I’d stop in, and I’d leave saying I like it. The ride is what I’m looking for...

...but for just a few more $$ I’d eventually have my dream bike, whatever that was. It had been clear when I’d signed-up, but the edges were getting hazy.

And then there was a deal.

And the deal and the ride and the stolen LHT and the upcoming gravel grinder and the fact that I really do fit a standard off-the-shelf bicycle just fine so-why-would-I-spend-a-ton-of-$$-on-custom all added up to a logical conclusion.

And it turns-out the things I questioned about the bike ten months ago are the very things that make me love it: long-reach brake calipers and brazons for a rack mean it’s a ride for a variety of purposes, seasons and conditions.

One ride for everything. Old-school.

-TOB turns-out Old School is hip

Lorraine

Betty just has more get-up-and-go than...than...Aunt Lorraine, here! I blurted out, as I topped the hill. It had been a rainy few days and we grabbed the bikes with fenders and racks—the Long Haul Truckers—for our Saturday breakfast ride, and I forgot.

* sigh *

I forgot that I wasn’t riding Betty. Climbing? The LHT can’t be persuaded to get all excited about it. She’ll take me places and haul things that Betty won’t touch, but she won’t be something she’s not...and she’s just not racy.

You know an Aunt Lorraine. She can’t be hurried. Around her, life is relaxed and comfortable, but underneath all that deliberateness there’s potential for adventure.

Lorraine likes a good beer, three squares a day, and a gin tonic on summer nights during poker games. She’s a sturdy woman...not fat, mind you, but tall and solid. Fifty years ago she’d have been called a spinster. Now she’s simply a grown-up tomboy, independent as hell, who has her own way moving through the world.

Aunt Lorraine’s got a past, and when she’s in the right mood you’ll hear about some of it. She’ll trail off and smile, then offer you some more iced tea before the two of you head off in the truck...that old Sorrenson place just outside town is waiting to be explored.

Lorraine makes you see parts of yourself in a different way. Things that are neither good nor bad she simply paints in new colors, and you find yourself hmmmm-ing and nodding. She helps you realize there’s more to life than the block you live on, and there’s more about time than the here and now.

The way it’s always been?

There just may be another way.


- Old Bag learning new tricks

Betty

Betty is eight years old this season. In human years, that's...well, I don't know what that is, but she's no spring chicken.

Neither am I.

I got her right at the end of my racing stint. Bianchi sponsored our team, and I got her for a song. Actually, the frameset was a replacement for a 2000 version that had cracked. Bianchi finally did Scandium right -- I never did race this bicycle, but to me she was a dream to ride over the long miles and the hills.

Lately however, I'm not riding her as much as I used to. This season in particular, long miles have meant aches in my lower back...it's a tough realization. My bod is aging and I need a ride that complements it. Compared to the tandem and the commuter, Betty is just a bit too aggressive in frame geometry and material.

I've started tentatively looking around at road bikes, but I'm in no hurry. And I really question the wisdom in getting something different. There's nothing that says I can't use my old travel bicycle as my everything road bike.

Except.

Except that we all have our reasons why we ride. Some ride to save money. Some ride to save our corner of the world. Some ride to keep in shape, to be social or solitary. Me? it's all of that: it's the groceries, the beer run, the commuting, the road less traveled, the day-long ride just because.

Mostly though, it's about the wind in my face as I'm doing all of that...especially as I'm screaming down the hills.

But it's also about the wind in my face as I'm screaming up the hills. Any old bicycle can follow gravity, it's the breaking-free that I'm looking for.

I need an all-day comfort ride that can climb a hill like a crazy woman. The travel bicycle isn't a crazy woman. It's a safe, careful tourist.

Betty's my crazy lady.

Shorter stem, new seatpost = hopefully more comfort for a bit longer

white bar tape is for dweebs

- OB

Recovery Ride

It's always said
one needs to
stop and

smell the roses

but I couldn't find any!

- TOB

Nekkid and Flying

You know, one of those dreams
but then I realized
it wasn't a dream...I was on the road bike

- OB :-)

Sat. May 5th

so
awake at 5:30
on a Saturday
and so I got up
5:30
saturday
doesn't happen
doesn't happen ever
feet on the floor
upright
at 5:30
saturday
ya, NOT
but my head was swirling
dull roar
beeps
color flashes
seagulls?
and so I got up
paper
that paper
that damned paper
finished it
8 AM
done
picked-up
cleaned-up
checked-off
packed and tidy
headed out with Betty
windy and overcast
sunny in my world

- Ob wrote this awhile back and found it's not half bad....

The One that Brings Me

The cooler nights, the sun setting earlier in the evening, the dull green on the trees.... I know what’s on its way all too soon: dark mornings, fuzzy tights and the furnace kicking-in. I’m outta sorts with this transition. It's bigger than going back to a new school year. Time moves. The cycle begins again.

The wheel has rolled to the position it was in once before, yet it's not in the same place: it’s moved that much farther along the map, and the scenery is just a bit different, and the road contact has removed one more layer of wear from the tread. Everything looks familiar but nothing is quite the same.

I'm wistful because I have the time to be so. In another few days life will be crazy with kids and teachers and helpme^helpmehelpme and will-I-live-to-see-the-end-of-this-day. I won't have time for WISTFUL.

And then will come the red leaves waiting for snow to fall while hunkered-down until spring before summer sets me free again. And too soon I'll be back in this spot, but in a different place.

The wheel rolls.

Stella is starting to stomp around the garage. She can smell change on the air. Autumn is her favorite season to haul through the woods, and her impatience is setting-in. I get it, but I haven’t hopped onto the saddle just yet.

Betty knows too. She’s ancy when I get home. She knows how to cajole without allowing me to wallow. ComeON. So, you're nostalgic. SO, you're tired. SO it's getting cooler. SO the sun is setting a bit earlier. Time passes nothing stays the same you're getting old and one day you won't be around anymore bla bla bla. Girl, we've got a headlight. Flashers are on. It’s not like you have to DO anything but pedal. Let's go let'sgolet'sgolet'sgo!



....and we can stop by the Dairy Queen....

!

She knows how to get my sorry backside outta the house.

- TOB

Girlfriend

a baiku


Betty and me, we
go way back like girlfriends do
time spent together

she hangs out content
to pick-up when life settles
because she knows why

we're like that, Betty
and me, we depend upon
the strength of the bond

the history behind
what is now means we always
start up where we left

and we always leave
on good terms, Betty and me,
we lock side glances

when time finally
welcomes us to fly with the
breezes down the road

- tob waitin' to take-off