By contrast, the 8 dream bikes I’m working now toward owning, will bring me prestige, good health and enjoyment long after the C-class bla bla has gone to the wreckers.
I own one of those 8 bikes already, my elegant Lynskey, with Campagnolo gear and Mavic Helium Wheels, like something that has rained down from Plato’s ideal realm of Forms. I shall wax lyrical about it more in due course. Pictured behind me is my lovely wife, aging like titanium, i.e., not at all (ladies, she’s always worn sunscreen). To the left of the image is our Subaru Forester, that is aging more like a car. Before this blogging project is complete I plan to convince smarty pants wifey there that we need to sell it.
Now to the other 7. The following list is likely to be refined over time, which is not to say these are stabs in the dark either. But enough of my yappin:
And around 5K for the world’s fastest cargo bike seems fair as well.
There’s something mad about mountain biking, and something mad about Jeff Jones too, who builds titanium frames and forks that act like titanium springs. Since the end goal of mountain biking, we all know, is to look down from above at our corpses being stretchered from gorges, we should each approach mountain biking with due reverence, I suggest, on 10K+ dream bikes like Jones’s, designed to spring back for our sons to inherit.
After going nuts up the bush, put on your best powder blue linen suit and roll out for coffee with a friend on this classic dutch crossframe.
And don’t just buy your friend coffee. Set her up on her very own granny bike, one that will not muddy her hems—with thanks to the girls from the lets go ride a bike blog, that has inspired me to start my own blog.
Complete the Dutch theme with an original bakfiets to leave parked in front of your house and thus silence all of your Prius and Smartcar driving middleclass neighbours.
To this list we might add one fixie, one time trial machine and maybe a sub 6kg carbon road bike, but personally, I would feel uneasy about owning so many bikes. An air of restraint should inform ones moving, if ones moving is to be truly behooving.
So there is the list, and there is the plan. Along the way I will convince my local council to stop treating the city center as one giant car park and let it be the pre-car city it once was, with walk-up apartments with no basement parking, etceter. I will convert my street into a garden, with no garage doors or on-street parking; my neighbours and I will all voluntarily remit our residents’ permits. I will no doubt patch lots of flats. I will buy clothes to match every bike. I will show you all how to live your lives better and be worthy, like me.