Their are cyclists, and then there are bike junkies. Cyclists ride for one or many reasons, and generally revere their equipment to some degree. Bike Junkies, on the other hand, collect, rebuild, fiddle, modify, and let bike culture absorb into their skin like DMT in the '70s. They are, in general, as helpless (and hopeless) as any other addict. Sometimes they can walk away from the need, the itch, but it always lingers over their left shoulder like Death in a Casteneda novel.
This isn't just "personal opinion" on my part, it's the voice of experience. I managed to walk away from the "industry", and the personal addiction for several years. Then I became a "cyclist" for a while. Then I fell off the wagon. Hard.
Over the next few posts, I'll detail my rise to Bike Junkie, my reformation, and my relapse. I'll also be chronicling the restoration of a '70s Wester Ross, the building of an '80s Wester Ross, the pitfalls of riding in Santa Fe, and the joys of fixed gear cycling.
Comments are welcome, but please leave your attitude at the door.
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