Even though I wasn’t more seriously injured when I got clobbered by a car last week, there was a significant, personal loss associated with this accident — my bike. While it may seem a little strange to mourn the demise of an inanimate object, I can’t help but feel a sense of loss relating to my bike.
From the very beginning of the 100 Pedals journey my bike was with me. Every morning for one hundred consecutive days my bike and I rode around the streets sharing the experiences of the sites, the sounds, the bumps, the hills, and various minor cycling “incidents.” I started many days and completed numerous early morning rides with my bike. My bike joined me on my Summer ’12 Tour as I drove and rode across the country, stopping in different cities and celebrating rides with new and old friends along the way. Though my bike didn’t speak to me or greet me with a big hug, smile, or wag of its rear tire – my bike was always there to greet me just the same.
Over the past two years during my 100Pedals journey we traveled over 10,000 miles together. While I alone with nothing but my thoughts, dodging careless drivers, slipping on slick roads, exploring new routes and celebrating adventure my bicycle was my constant companion and partner on my journey.
As I heal physically and celebrate the reality that I am fortunate my injuries were not more serious, I walk into my garage and look at my bike and realize that some things will never be the same. Just like Tom Hanks had Wilson on his journey in the movie “Cast Away“, my bike was that constant partner on my solitary journey.
My bike was only a hunk of carbon fiber, some gears and chains, a pair of rims and tires, handlebars and a seat. But, for over four years, 20,000 plus miles, and 1200 plus hours, that bike was my companion. I received a lot of benefit riding it. I am saddened it won’t be my riding partner on my 100PedalsRide later this spring. It is only a bike, but it was a big part of an important season in my life and I can’t help but mourn the loss of my trusty, reliable, and supportive riding partner. I am disappointed that my riding will have to wait until I heal. I am even more disappointed that my first really cool road bike, my partner on all my journeys, and my steady, silent friend will not recover to be a part of the next exciting chapter in my life.
Thanks buddy — you took me on an incredible journey and I couldn’t have done it without you!!