The bad tempered part pretty much summed up my attitude this morning when I woke to find 3-4 more inches of snow on the ground. Didn’t Mother Nature know that I have a new bike I wanted to ride to work today? I procrastinated my departure all morning, shuffling around, lounging on the bed, anything to avoid either riding in the crap or catching a ride. I tend to be one of those people who can readily forgo the lure of material possessions, however when I do have something I somewhat obsess over it. I’ve always been very diligent about taking care of things, almost to the point of neurosis. The advantage is that your stuff tends to last longer and look newer for the life of the object. The bad part is that your wife gets annoyed at your perpetual fussing and you never get comfortable with things. I hated the idea of riding my new bike this morning. I think it almost made me violently ill; certain that I’d crash it or get it covered in Mag Chloride and have it totally eaten through with rust by the afternoon. My psychosis was bad enough I almost considered riding my Cannondale instead…how sick is that?
Then I recalled something that I read in a book or on a blog once about people who covet their bikes. The author, making fun of people who have “rainy day bikes” said something to the effect of, “Bikes are tools and nothing more.” A bike doesn’t have a soul. A bike isn’t your best friend. It won’t last forever. Keeping them inside all the time, or stored in your dining room (what nut job would store a bike in their dining room…oh yeah me…) only speaks to the degree to which you’ve come to project emotions onto an object that never had them to begin with. This mental state is sick. It is wrong and it had me firmly in its grasp. I needed to just build a bridge and get over it: time to ride.
Well if a bike is a tool, then the tool you want for riding on a cold, snowy, slick, awful day such as today is a Surly Long Haul Trucker. It would be like showing up to a duel with an AK-47… “Oh you meant pistols at dawn? Kak-kak-kak-kak-kak—suckka!” I’m not sure if it’s the weight of the bike, the wide track of the wheels, the tread on the Continentals or my superior, innate bike handling prowess or what (it could be my prowess, don’t laugh), but the bike hammered through the snow, slush and crud. Where my Cannondale would have chattered and bounced among the tracks and blocks of snow on the shoulder, the LHT plowed through them with ease. Halfway through my ride I became thoroughly convinced that if everyone had an LHT no one would fear riding in snow. I couldn’t believe I almost grabbed a ride or hopped the bus today. Think how sad my bike would have been sitting in the garage missing out on its opportunity to prove itself…ok personifying again. But it would have been an insult to the folks at Surly who took a very brash and menacing attitude towards the elements when they crafted this bike; like cold-cocking Mother Nature in the eye and not even feeling bad about it.
So I made it to work and pulled in to the bike room glad to have ridden. I didn’t crash. I didn’t drop the bike on ice or slip on some slush. I made it in one piece and I think my Surly will live to ride another day…especially since I brought a little towel with me to wipe it off and make sure that Mag Chloride leaves my shiny blue CroMoly alone...its all about baby steps, old habits die hard...the first step is admitting you have a problem.
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