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.