I sold a bike this week. It was one of seven that I own. Now I own six. I miss that bike already. I didn’t need it, rarely used it, but I loved it. I have more bikes for sale, and it is very likely that I will sell more before the end of this World Cup. I will miss them all.
I sold the Cervelo for less than I paid for it. You never make a profit on a bike. Like a car, it loses money as you take it home, shedding value as the kilometres tick by.
The memories live on. Cyclists can tell you, in detail, every bike they ever owned, from the groupset to the wheels, to the nicks and scratches on the frame, the feel of the ride, the reach, the cornering, the response from pedal to wheel.
I have bought frames and parts on eBay, picked up bargain bikes from former professionals and teams, and over-paid from family members. I have given bikes away, and then swapped other bikes to get them back again. I have also bought a bike on finance. And I have been sorely tempted to do so again.
The Cervelo was an aluminium Soloist, the first bike designed by Phil White and Gerard Vroomen, the founders of the Canadian bike company who now sponsor MTN-Qhubeka.
They once sponsored Team CSC, who were the No1 team in the world for a fair part of the early 12st Century. I built that Cervelo up as close to the version Bobby Julich won the 2005 Paris-Nice on.
Vroomen went on to start Open cycles, a small company dedicated to designing and building the lightest mountain-bike frame on the planet. The Open 0-1.0 is stealth fighter black. A friend in the bike industry, Dave Shemmeld, called to say he had an Open 0-1.0 in my size.
The price was good, but I am broker than Greece. So, finance it said David. David sold me my first-ever road bike, a Trek 5200. He likes selling me bikes. He has cost me a lot of money down the years.
Bike Life is a company that finance bikes. They do so at generous interest rates. As I said, I am sorely tempted. They make owning a dream bike as easy as buying a new car, except that when you walk out with a new bike you feel a connection with it that probably similar to the affection between horse and rider.
I start a long stint of leave today, so I have time to think and to ride. I have roads and tracks to roll along, to clear the head, to recharge worn-down batteries and wonder about the Cervelo I sold on Monday and how it is doing with its new owner.
I have time to dream of a stealth-black Open 0-1.0. I have the time to be a cyclist again. - The Star