My white bicycle is 15 years old this year, which I guess is pretty old for a bike. I remember when I got her, it was spring of 2004, probably this month. I rode a lot that summer, and got a lot of compliments on my bike. Before I bought this bike, I got a lot of guffaws and comments to the tune of, “how and why are you riding that?!” In reference to my heavy mountain bike. I assumed this is just how nice bikes got treated, but after a few years, the compliments stopped. I guess she got old. The resale value on my bike is about 5% what I bought her for. One would think it’s time I get a new bike. But my white bicycle is perfect. I gave her a bath yesterday, and she still glimmers and shines when cared for. Sure, she has dents and dings and scratches galore, but she still rides light and nimble and smooth. I still feel better on this bike than I do anywhere else. I project her taking me where I want to go for at least another 5 years without a hitch.
Ode to My White Bicycle
A random search down Spotify lane connected me with this amazing song. I accepted the color of my bike. Sure, I'd had a lot of unintentional white forms of transportation in my life. My first car was white. My second car was white. My boyfriend's car is white. My vanerhome is white. It coordinates perfectly with the white bike rack and white car, but white is so, bland and....vanilla. Then I found this song. I don't think I'll ever be able to have a bike any other color from here on out. So here is an ode to my white bicycle for a feel good Friday.