Too Many Bikes

A man is coming in about an hour to look at my Italian bike. I suspect he is interested in turning it into a fixie.

I've had this bike for 5 years and have ridden it once, seriously, and perhaps three other times, less seriously. It is beautiful. Bright shiny lugs, fork and rear stays - brilliant blue paint. It is light and responsive and well-geared and full of nice components. It is more an art object than a bike, since I never ride it. So isn't this the right time to sell it? When my next bike project has to be putting together a bike I can attach a child seat to?

There are no strong memories attached to this bike, no special rides with a special someone, no rainstorms ridden through, no countless hours spent rebuilding it from the frame up, sourcing obscure bottom brackets. I replaced the tires, the brake pads, the brake levers, the bar tape. Finito. So why is it so hard to let this one go?

We have no space for it in our upstairs porch-storage room; there are already three other bikes there, plus two strollers and an exercise ball. I can't fit a child seat on it, front or back. But...we have this wonderful bike path just a half mile away. I could ride it there...by myself, since Josh would need to watch Eleanor if I was gone.

I could ride it to daycare to pick up Eleanor and then return with her by bus, leaving Josh to pick it up on his way back from school or soccer games...

It's not a good rainy day or winter bike....

You can't carry anything on it except yourself...

And maybe that's the crux of it. It's my solo escape bike. No baby, no husband, no errands, no groceries. Just me and the promise of the open road, unfettered, unfendered, gleaming in the sunlight, and free.