Today my bike arrived. It came in three large boxes. Excitedly, but rather foolishly, I ran barefoot outside in shorts and a t-shirt to retrieve them from the UPS dude. I transitioned from unpacking my belongings which I had brought home yesterday for the last time from college, to opening the various boxes of goodies. All in all there were 20 packages consisting of dozens of components, including an old frame, all-new parts, and cycling shoes for the trip.
The frame is of course the most exciting element. It is Trek brand, white, and dirty. Since I will be spending up to three months in intimate contact with this new friend, it needs a personal touch, and that means a new paint job. I tenderly wiped it down with soapy water in the wash tub. After the wash, I spent an hour sanding all the surfaces by hand. A good roughing up will ensure the new coat of paint adheres properly. A bike frame has a surprising many surfaces.
With that job finished, Andrew suggested we head to the hardware and pick out some paint. I assumed we had a vehicle at our disposal, especially since it was 4:30pm in mid-December. We did not. Okay, I thought, here we go. I pulled on what winter riding gear I had, and selected one of the many bikes from the garage. We headed out into the chilly dusk. My hands and face were cold, but it was a pretty short ride. We made it alright, warming up inside the store while I picked out the optimal shade of green spray-paint. After a few minutes we were back outside, when Andrew announced he had to head straight to his dentist appointment in downtown Ann Arbor.
Thus it was that I found myself starting back alone. It was now completely dark, so I switched on the red-flashing light on the rear of my bike. This commuting bike is fitted with a single-speed gear, which negates any shifting options. That makes uphills especially difficult for my non-conditioned legs. I was already tired, and it had gotten colder. My concern grew on the last few hills where spurts of cars chased me from behind, synchronized with the last traffic light before my street. I made it though, and turned off onto the first dirt road which offered a back route home. I couldn't see the potholes until I hit them. This chilly experience was worth it though, since I was allowed a last glimpse of dusk through branches drifting past…fluffy orange clouds pasted on deep blue sky (Hope colors!) amidst the enclosing darkness and cold. I pulled in at 5:55pm, yelped at the cold as I fumbled for the hidden spare key, and stubbed my numb toes as I hopped indoors into the warmth. I quick logged on to check the temperature…it was 18 degrees with an index of 4.
That ride essentially began my training for the trip. It won’t really occur to me what I am about to put my body through for the next few months until we’re actually doing it. But I have the next three weeks to prepare as much as I can. Later on that evening, I moved a bookcase in my bedroom to make room on the floor for a mattress (I got used to my living situation this past semester). I removed the decorative items from the top of the bookcase, one of which was a drilled-out hand grenade. This relic of my boyhood struck me - what kind of a world do we live in where kids prize destructive weapons as novelties? I determined to get rid of it for good. It is a small step to rearranging my bedroom, but progress nonetheless for peace in the world and in my heart.
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