The Romulan PeaceBird
I had this bike.
Actually, my mom kindly bought it for me at a Mennonite bike garage after I lost my last one to theft.
I’d been warned by Augustino at Mojo Cycle that that other bike was on its last legs, so I didn’t regret its theft too greatly: I needed a new bike.
This new bike was okay; it was a little heavy and all, however I did like the wide tires, which were impervious to Toronto streetcar track traps. The low handlebars killed me, though – the posture was all wrong and I never liked it.
I got it fixed up by Augustino at Mojo Cycle; he was reluctant to put higher, taller, BMX-style handlebars on the bike, he thought it would ride funny. However I persisted and he did seem surprised and impressed at how it turned out, and thought in retrospect I’d made the right choice.
I also wanted fenders to keep me dry on rainy days.
Augustino also re-worked the gears and brake lines, and put new gear-shifters and brake handles onto the new handlebars.
I couldn’t believe how it turned out. It looked GREAT. And my posture felt vastly improved.
Once, my nephew Bailey and niece Bryanna laughed at my old bike’s appearance. I told them I’d had six bikes stolen and that this ugly one I’d had for over 2 years — they grokked my meaning right away and laughed even harder, but in delight.
I’ve never had a really killer looking bike; it’s not that huge a deal to me.
But this bike looked GREAT! I wanted to paint it; I tried keeping the red, and went for a simple black coat.
It wasn’t as good as I was hoping.
So I tried Leaf Green.
Check out how amazing it looked.
I’m not much for adding a lot of personalized details to a bike, however, stepping back to look at the green paint dry, I decided I was going to probably buy a Portland Design Works Bird Cage for the bike, and I decided suddenly that the bike’s name would be the Romulan PeaceBird.
It was the first time I ever named a bike.
Don’t get me wrong, I dig my bikes a lot. I just never felt compelled to call a bike “Lois” or “Maxwell” or anything. This bike wasn’t perfect; it was still a little small. Still, it was a big step for me. I felt close to it; I felt an excitement about having it. I felt a connection to it.
It was cool.
Because I’m an idiot, it never occurred to me that someone would steal the bike. It’s just an old CCM frame, probably from a Canadian Tire. Augustino got the fenders and handlebars off of other, old unused bikes. It LOOKED great but it was just an old bike. I did look for a better lock, and didn’t find what I wanted, and before I did, someone busted open the lock on the bike in the night and made off with it. I miss it. C’est la vie.
As much as I miss it, I think we made the most of our time together, at least.