by Kevin Eng
Even in bicycle love, there’s always a first love. I’d like to share the story of mine with you.
Before I bare all though, allow me to introduce myself. I’m Kevin, one of the friendly neighborhood bike geeks here at Cycle Craft. I just happen to be the one with a degree in Journalism, so I have been charged with providing you all with some interesting bike-related tidbits to read here (I guess I’m supposed to be good at writing or something). Over the coming weeks, you’ll find insights, updates about cool new stuff, and maybe an opinion or two. What I would like to find in return is your feedback. Your influence is just as important as mine as this blog takes shape. Whether I’m doing it right or wrong, let me know in the comments.
Anyways, let’s begin. If you’re still reading, you’re probably at some stage of your own two-wheeled amorous affair, so you’ll know exactly where I’m coming from. While I’m usually not one to kiss and tell, I’ll tell you a little about my first love.
When I was younger, my dad and I went on Sunday morning bike rides around town. Since he was at work and I was at school during the week, the ride was our father-son time. We did that for a few years, and it was a fun way to spend time with my dad. We did a couple of Five Boro Bike Tours together and had a blast. The summer before my junior year of high school, my dad and I decided to replace our department store mountain bikes with fancy, new road bikes. So we strolled into Cycle Craft in Parsippany. And that’s where I saw her.
She was hanging up behind the counter, her aluminum tubes glistening under the spotlight. She was sleek and purposeful. She looked good standing still, but I knew she’d look better going fast. Her name tag said Cannondale. We spent a little time getting to know each other then, suffice to say, she came home with me.
It wasn’t long before I wanted to spend more time with my new lady then just Sunday morning. When I went off to college, I had to bring her along. I joined the club team at my school so I could spin away a few hours with her on weekend group rides. I gave her a first name (Cassie). I got a summer job at Cycle Craft and learned a little about how to take care of her. My human girlfriend at the time used to joke that Cassie shot jealous looks at her on occasion. I’m still not entirely certain that she was joking.
Fast forward three years. Since Cassie, I’ve had two other road bikes (Cindy and Racquel, in case you were wondering), but Cassie is still with me. Cindy and Racquel may go faster or be a little better looking, but as they say, you never forget your first. I’ve considered parting with Cassie for good on a few occasions, but I don’t think I’d want to see her go. She’s been content to be my spare bike, and even spent some time as a single speed. At the moment, she’s just a bare frame hanging in my garage, but I’m certain that one day she’ll find a way to get back out on the road with me.
Perhaps your bikes don’t have names and aren’t making your significant other jealous. But I believe every cyclist feels some kind of attachment to their bicycle, whether its purely functional or something more profound. Scientists say that the basis of attachment (and perhaps love) is when an individual or object becomes associated with feelings of happiness or pleasure. I don’t know about you, but riding my bicycle makes me feel pretty darn good. That explains a lot.
Now that I’ve shared my experience, I’d like to hear about yours in the comments. Tell me your bike’s name (if he/she has one) and how you two met. Maybe a little about your first date. Unless your bike is too embarassed, that is.