maintenance

I had an old VW bug once. It was a ’63, and I had it in it’s final days, the mid 80s. The engine on that bug was so worn that I had to crawl under it and work on it EVERY time I drove it. That means I’d crawl under it before I drove to town and after I arrived in town; before I drove home and after I arrived home. One headlight pointed straight up and the other straight down.

Maintaining an old bike is a somewhat related venture. If it gets ridden a lot, it needs a lot of maintenance. Tires pumped up and repaired, brakes adjusted, shifters adjusted. Spokes tightened and loosened to keep the wheels spinning true. That seat that just won’t stay tight. Many people, especially those who don’t ride , don’t realize the extent to which one is tied to that old bike. Kind of like the relationship one has with a dog. You need to spend a lot of time together to remain on good terms. Not so much with a dog, as they are advanced beings. In 53 years of dogs, I can’t remember one instance where my dog got angry with me. Dogs are aware of a lot more than humans give them credit for. They’re ahead of us, karmically, in every respect. We humans are oh so self-centered. When we finish our human trials, re-incarnationally speaking, we likely come back as dogs. Not so bicycles. We probably never come back as bicycles.

When I was attending City College in Sacramento, CA back in the mid seventies, I rode my 10 speed 14 miles every day, going to and from school. Hardly a day went by that I wasn’t working on it at lunch time so I could then ride it back home. On weekends, I might ride it 50 miles. I was a runner in those days too. My cardiovascular system was in top shape in those days. I could play frisbee for hours on end without tiring, amazing those around me.

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