I knew my bicycle was in the old house and that I wanted to get it back. The bicycle had become as much a part of my existence as the clothes I wore to go out. I say to go out, because it represents me, just like clothes.
I nurtured the bicycle like a baby, replacing all the worn cables, carefully oiling all the necessary parts, aligning the brakes. Every now and then I stripped down to basics and reassembled it to ensure it was in original working condition. I even manually replaced all of the ball bearings once, a task that almost drove me insane and one that is infinitely more unbearab…
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