Boomerang bike that would not die
If you love it, set it free. If it comes back, well, youknowthe rest. features editor EWANSARGENTEXPLAINS his complex relationship with the boomerang bike.
Write how you love your bike, they asked. Fine, except that I don’t love my Specialized Sirrus and, for much of our time together, I have liked other bikes much more.
Yet there is a relationship. I’ll give it that.
Each day we set out on a 16-kilometre return commute to my work. It’s a lucky bike and I definitely feel respect and affection. Maybe it is love.
My middle-aged cycling life began in 2000, when, after no research, I bought the cheapest mountainbike I could find.
Almost immediately, I disliked it, then moved to hating it, as you do.
A year later and after more research than I ever spent on milestones such as house buying, job changes and starting a family, I bought the Sirrus.
But, embarrassingly, again it felt wrong. It is solid aluminium with straight handlebars and was too heavy and uncomfortable for the long-distance rides over mountain ranges I wanted to do.
So the Sirrus joined the mountainbike in the back of the garage and wild affairs began with drop-handle, carbon-fibre road bikes with 30-speed Ultegra gear sets, carbon tyres and $50 bottle holders – I still can’t believe I paid that much.
For a few years, the Sirrus hung on the wall with no wheels, which had been cannibalised for other projects.
I put wheels back on it when someone wanted to borrow a bike and the expendable, unloved Sirrus got the nod. I was amazed when it was returned in one piece.
Then we moved to Christchurch. Another bike (don’t ask) was abandoned at the recycling depot, but somehow the Sirrus got a ticket south.
The road bike was sold when the Port Hills dulled the urge for hill climbing and, after tiring of feeding Wilsons car-park ticket machines, I looked at the Sirrus again.
I discovered that with mudguards and a carrier with an old wire vegetable bin tied on as a basket, the Sirrus was a great commuting bike.
I put on the best 28mm tyres I could afford and had the back wheel rebuilt. It never gets punctures and always runs true.
There are 24 gears, but I mostly use only one of them and the steepest hill it climbs is the road bridge at Riccarton Bush.
When the February 22, 2010, earthquake shattered the old Press building, the Sirrus was lost in the basement.
After a few months, I gave up on getting it back and bought a new bike for commuting.
A week later, word went out that helpful firemen had pulled some bikes out of the old building before it was demolished.
‘‘No, no, no – not the Sirrus,’’ I pleaded to the skies, but the next day, there it was, back from the dead, all dusty with flat tyres.
However, it won me all over again. It’s a better commuter than the new bike, which is now at the back of the garage. I trust it.
It’s a survivor and that’s the kind of partner you want on the road, when cars and trucks are flying everywhere.
Love? ‘‘Whatever love means,’’ as Prince Charles famously said.