Of Bikes and (Wo)Men

As a person who tends to make decisions about selling and purchasing bikes from about mid-fall through winter, we are now smack dab in the center of bike chaos in our household. Maybe it's the colder weather (though we've had an incredibly mild season in Colorado) or perhaps it just tends to be a natural time of reflection, purging, and renewal, but I've already said goodbye to three bikes in the fold and have one on its merry way from the UK as I type.

In some sense, I don't enjoy having too many bikes (what too many is defined as is still up for debate, I suppose). Options are always nice and if there's a flat or mechanical to deal with at the last second, it's easier to put the fix off until a later time and just make another selection. The problem is, these troubles don't materialize as often as one might think and then bikes tend to sit around gathering dust and I forget why I own the superfluous bike(s). Usually, this means a round of rides to find out if I still enjoy the bike or not, whether it's a near-duplicate of another, and generally results in selling something off (and more often than not, also buying something else).

Definitely not an all-inclusive photo collage of the bikes that have come and gone, but a smattering nonetheless.

These rounds of purging and starting new have become a rather bad habit. If one has the means to do so, I suppose there's nothing wrong with the cycle, but it still feels rather wasteful of funds (and, we don't really have the funds to be wasted). The reality is, however, that there always seems to be a reason for the exchanges being made. The bike doesn't quite fit properly, it doesn't perform in the exact way we expected, it's a too-close duplicate of another bike, and on the list can go. They are perfectly valid reasons to sell or exchange a bike, but I can't help but wonder where it ends.

We have had conversations about the amount of money being invested in bikes and parts and discuss whether putting more into something could result in a better outcome, or in the possibility of finding that mythical one-bike-to-rule-them-all. However, we've both had frames from the very inexpensive to those that required a more substantial investment and there doesn't really seem to be a correlation between cost and enjoyment necessarily. Granted, our "expensive" frames are still not considered costly by many in the cycling industry, but most everyday people probably aren't forking out thousands for a frame, I'd guess, unless it truly is a once-in-a-lifetime, keep-it-forever sort of frame - and even then, I'd guess there's a lot of faith being put into the outcome of the build and a lot of crossed fingers.

While I do enjoy having the opportunity to ride different bikes, I don't know that I want to own a multitude of bikes that aren't being utilized. Evaluating what is actually usable seems to be more of a conundrum than one might think. How many different types of riding can a person truly do? And yet, I'll find myself perfectly ready to move forward with a similar bike purchase, despite having just rid one from the stable. Sometimes it is because I have need or want to replace a particular type of bike that just went wrong, and other times it feels more like a bout with insanity - repeating the same mistake and expecting different results.

I remember a time when I had one bicycle that was used for whatever type of riding I may have done. It was not suitable in theory for most of the rides I undertook, and yet, it was one of the happiest riding points in my life. There are times when I miss those days, but I also understand that I cannot turn back the hands of time and recapture the sort of innocence that existed then. Knowledge is power, but there is a sort of bliss in ignorance as well. While I don't wish to release information from my knowledge base, I do find myself longing for the simpleness that existed with having one bike to ride everywhere.

Realistically, I understand it is unlikely I will ever be a one-bike-only person in the future, but I do have hope to settle in to a small number that get used on a regular basis. The problem seems to come in finding that "right" number and the ideal combination, and so the cycle continues each fall/winter in which I reevaluate, purge, and restock. I know it's possible to have a bike long-term, but finding the right one(s) to keep around seems to be the portion of this puzzle that eludes me. Perhaps it's just in my nature to want fresh starts, or more truthfully, it is that there is always an aspect of each bicycle that doesn't quite suit me or my needs, and since needs and wants can change over time, maybe I'm trying to fix something that isn't repairable.

Still, I forge on, believing that one day the right tools for the right jobs will be apparent and will stabilize this madness that lingers and repeats. Hopefully, information and experience will settle the revolving door, and rides will become less about feeling out a particular bike for its workable/non-workable characteristics and more about enjoying my surroundings on a bike.