Last summer I fell in love with a girl -- well actually a girl's bike. I like to ride for exercise wherever I am. I brought a racing style bike up with me from Georgia, but found its skinny tires punctured too readily on Rhode Island and Huntington roads. In Georgia I rode Chris' old hybrid and its tires stood up pretty well, but I left it behind 'cause it's showing its age.
At Drew's in Rowayton, CT, I continued to have to patch or replace tubes. Then one day my eyes lit on Leslie's big Specialized CrossCountry bike that was in the very rear of the garage. I pulled it out for a look. I was impressed with its obviously sturdy grey aluminum frame. And the tires were beefy -- not sissy fat cruiser tires, but medium sized with a strong tread. Gee, I bet this baby can handle these roads, I mused. But wait, that's a GIRLS bike. Darn! I couldn't ride a GIRLS bike!
One more flat tire on my racing bike and I swallowed my pride and gave the silver lady a whirl. Wow, what a bike! Great gearing, tracked well, and boy did she smooth out those normally painful bumps, thanks to the shock absorbing front fork and seat support (let's keep them a secret! I even sat upright instead of hunched over, so I could ride for hours without getting that crick in the neck the racing bike gave me.
I christened her Grey Girl and rode her for the rest of the summer without a single flat! I dreaded the day I would have to leave her behind. I decided I would offer to buy her, make a generous bid. Would you believe I was turned down?! Leslie up and GAVE her to me. Unbelievable! How generous! Love her!
Oh one other thing, but this you can't talk about or they'll think I'm bonkers. You remember how I got so fed up changing all those flat tires? Well, I can say truthfully that Grey Girl has magical tires, swear to god. Let me tell you how I know. Riding Grey Girl back in Georgia, I was returning from Wal-Mart when I suddenly saw broken glass in front of me. As usual the bike basket and my knapsack were overloaded with groceries so I couldn't swerve or brake in time to avoid running over some shards. With heart in throat, I peddled on, expecting any moment to hear that dreaded hissing sound. But no, Grey Girl wouldn't let me down, literally, especially with such a heavy cargo. She carried me on three more miles 'till I was close to the marina. There, I felt the front tire softening, but Grey Girl girlfully rolled on right down to the boat.
I was darn impressed with her courage. What a girl! But I also had to make a short ride down to the library before it closed. I quickly unloaded my goods and pumped up that tire extra hard so I could get down there and back. I got down there fine, but after selecting some DVD's and books, when I went outside I found that tire shapeless, dead, totally FLAT!. I wheeled Grey Girl home. Next day I yanked the tube out, pumped some air into it, and submerged it in the kitchen sink to find the puncture and patch it. I waited for the escaping air bubbles to appear. Where are they?! I couldn't see any. Darn! Not enough air pressure, I figured. I pumped it up again 'till it was now half inflated, put on my reading glasses, and stuck my nose almost in the water while I focused my eyes on each square millimeter passing by as I slowly rotated it inch by inch. No joy! -- What the heck??
Now I had no hole I could patch. And no other tube! I had no choice but to put the tube back inside the tire and mount it on the wheel again. Clearly this was a fool's errand 'cause it was sure to go flat again, and soon, but what else could I do?
Well, against all odds it turns out it didn't go flat again soon, or even later. It's now been months, and magically, that tire, and that Girl, rolls on. This bike has set, for me at least, a new standard in durability, in reliability. As a reward, I decided to give her a new name -- my Magical Grey Girl! Oh, I know that sounds a bit pretentious, so I just call her Maggie, for short.
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