A couple of weeks back my friend Raleigh sent me a post card describing his plight and, as only he could, found a way to crack a few jokes at my expense. It was good to hear from him, so good in fact I decided to pay the Old Gang a visit. Upon my arrival, I was hit with a bombshell.
The rack they called home for more than 18 months lay bare.
friends acquaintances were nowhere to be found.
Perplexed, I asked around and was assured by the owner of this particular store front that they had in fact been taken off to a lovely farm where they can frolic with other bikes like themselves.
So at least there is that.
While bittersweet, I do remember hoping that they might meet at least a swift and peaceful end, an end which appears to come. So while I say goodbye to my
friends acquaintances, I remain hopeful that new ones are just around the bend.
See, here in College Town, USA you don't have to look very far to find another pile of shitty, forgotten bicycles
Hell, sometimes you don't even have to look. I mean, crap like this walks through the door every damn day
This particular pile, clearly retired from a long and presumably storied racing career,
was "rescued" from the dumpster but sadly, it spends its days being beaten and neglected. That is of course until the day when One is done with it and fucks off back from whence he came, and this comically named bicycle will end up back in the dumpster behind his favorite Starbucks.
Circle of life and whatnot.