And that means you are insane. At least that’s what my friend was thinking, because he said, in the most normal tone of voice, “I have seven bikes.”
No one asked him why. Everyone turned to me, though, and wanted more information about this odd behavior of mine.
With a few exceptions, I’ve always had one bike, thanks to Scott Dickson, he of the multiple Paris-Brest-Paris victories. “It’s impossible to ride more than one bike at a time,” he said back in 1983. I’ve yet to see him proven wrong.
He also looked down his nose at multiple bikes because, “You’ll cannibalize the one to keep the other running, ending up with only one bike anyway.”
But there were a few brief times when I had multiple bikes. From 1992-2000 I had my blue Eddy Merckx and a silver Bridgestone with baskets, a baby seat, and fenders. In 2000 I briefly owned a mountain bike along with my red Masi. The mountain bike left and I picked up a great deal on a 7-11 Eddy Mercxk to go with the Masi. Sure enough, I cannibalized the Masi, then sold both for a Specialized SL3.
For three years I had a Giant TCX to go with my Giant TCR. Then I got rid of the TCX and am back down to one bike. Now, however, with a new club and a new bike sponsor, it’s about time to retire the Giant TCR and get a new bike.
So I will have to sell my Giant. “Why not keep the Giant as a back-up?” my buddy asked. “You never know when you’re going to, uh, crash … ” he gazed at my crooked hip.
“No room for the spare bike.”
“Move to a bigger apartment.”
“Make your wife get a job.”
“Divorce is even more expensive than a new bike.”
“Hmmm,” he said. “Do your other friends know you only have one bike? That’s weird.”
“I don’t know.”
“Don’t tell them,” he counseled. “No one will want to ride with you anymore.”
“Fact. One bike = subversive. You’re probably anti-military, right?”
“See, I knew it. Do you like Bernie Sanders?”
“He makes a lot of sense.”
“Uh-huh. Free college and healthcare for everyone, paid for with unicorn farts?”
“That’s your problem. You’re treating bicycles as an example of needless consumerism. You probably only have two cars.”
“Oooooh. That’s bad. Prius?”
“Damn. Are any of your kids gay?”
“I don’t think so. But I wouldn’t care if they were.”
“You definitely need a couple more bikes.”
“Because it will kind of, you know, cover your tracks. With seven bikes no one will think you’re a commie lefty Sanders unicorn farter. They’ll think you’re a Republican.”
“Sure. I’ll even get you one of the made-in-China Trump hats that says ‘Buy American!'”
“But whatever on earth for? I hate Trump.”
“Of course you do. But it’s better that your friends think you’re a Trump guy than that you only have one bike. Trust me.”
“Okay,” I said. “I will.”
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