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| I Am Skooter | |
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So here's us, on the raggedy edge.
My true love drowned in a dirty old pan / Of oil that did run from the block / Of a falcon sedan 1969 / The paper said '75 — Neko Case, Star Witness |
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I pulled up to the corner of Oak and 37th, heading West…away from Toronto and towards home, in a manner of speaking. 37th is a major East/West bike route in Vancouver, although it’s a weird one for me to take—I’m not sure why I chose that route home tonight, but I did.
I slid in behind someone and, as I so often do, started examining his bike. It was red…a Vitali frame. Probably a few years old, judging the its construction: there was no carbon fibre at all, and the paint had chipped a bit.
Mostly what I looked at was the components. There were Campagnolo Veloce parts. Campagnolo components are rarer than my Shimano and have the beauty inherent in their Italian pedigree. Say what you want, but the Italians know something about machines that move…they are things of beauty that come from the heart first, and machines of efficiency and reliability second.
They guy on the bike in front of me turned around. He was older than I thought, or expected…probably about 60 or so, although it’s hard to judge. He smiled and said:
“You better go ahead. I’m recovering from chemotheraphy.”
It was such a pure moment of open disclosure I didn’t quite know what to say, but I told him I was admiring his bike and as I rode off I told him to have a nice ride.
It’s moments like that that I love about commuting on my bike.
Posted by skooter at 9:19 PM
This entry is filed under Cycling, Vancouver, Words.
This entry is tagged: Bikes, Vancouver