Masochism
Time spent in the garage is as good and sometimes better than time spent on the road. The voyage is inward rather than outward. The intimacy gained when fixing and maintaining a bike is invaluable on the road.
Just like any ride, garage time varies in its experience. Some days it is a quick joyful hop such as an oil change. Other times it is a trek filled with unexpected events and obstacles to be overcome....and you arrive with the best tales to tell. As they say, "the adventure begins when the plans go awry"
There is nothing quite so immediate and intense as a ride that wrings your guts dry and strums your nerves like a guitar string while completely emptying your mind and soul of all extraneous garbage. A deep rebuild is the same way. There is nothing quite like staying up until the birds stir, busting your ass to get the bike done so you dont have to take the friggin bus yet again to work. That feeling when you open the garage door, mouth sour from coffee filth and fatigue daylight stabbing your eyeballs with rusty talons. The obsidian bike dirt that is entwined in the molecules of your skin and clothes, that greasy grit caking your hands, mixing with the blood of slashed knuckles and twisting them into claws. And that bone deep ache in your back, hands and knees from working through the night. You want to rub your eyes but you dont dare. Your body is twisted with fatigue, your mind is pressed dry and you face a full day of work in a couple of hours. But the bike is a working unit again. and you will ride filled with pride.
Masochism or meditation? Who knows.
6.21.05
Just like any ride, garage time varies in its experience. Some days it is a quick joyful hop such as an oil change. Other times it is a trek filled with unexpected events and obstacles to be overcome....and you arrive with the best tales to tell. As they say, "the adventure begins when the plans go awry"
There is nothing quite so immediate and intense as a ride that wrings your guts dry and strums your nerves like a guitar string while completely emptying your mind and soul of all extraneous garbage. A deep rebuild is the same way. There is nothing quite like staying up until the birds stir, busting your ass to get the bike done so you dont have to take the friggin bus yet again to work. That feeling when you open the garage door, mouth sour from coffee filth and fatigue daylight stabbing your eyeballs with rusty talons. The obsidian bike dirt that is entwined in the molecules of your skin and clothes, that greasy grit caking your hands, mixing with the blood of slashed knuckles and twisting them into claws. And that bone deep ache in your back, hands and knees from working through the night. You want to rub your eyes but you dont dare. Your body is twisted with fatigue, your mind is pressed dry and you face a full day of work in a couple of hours. But the bike is a working unit again. and you will ride filled with pride.
Masochism or meditation? Who knows.
6.21.05
posted by Z at
11:42 PM
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