There comes a point in the life of most bicycles when the cost of repairing, or servicing them starts to approach the cost of replacing them entirely. I bit the bullet this morning, and wandered into our local bike shop.
Actually – I write “wandered” – it was more of a stagger, hood down, with frozen fingers gripping the edge of my hood. Somehow the weather decided to turn while we walked along the street towards the shop (my other half was with me) – turning from bright sunshine to gale force winds, hail, and sudden freezing temperatures.
We tumbled into the shop entrance – a mess of waterproofs, broken umbrellas, and wide eyes. The shop staff stopped what they were doing and looked up and down, smiling;
“Was there something we can help you with, or are you just hiding from the wonderful weather?”
After laughing, straightening ourselves out, and getting our breath back, I told the story of my bike and explained what I might be looking for. Moments later I found myself sitting astride a rather marvelous blue bicycle from last year’s range, sitting in the middle of the showroom “on offer”. It’s funny how coincidence works – that we happened to wander in on the same morning that exactly the right size framed bike of exactly the right type was sitting in the show-room among the various other bikes being cleared from stock.
Ten minutes later – after going through the various bits and pieces of paperwork, and picking up some lights for my other half’s bike, we left – pushing a shiny new bicycle.
It’s currently sitting in the shed in the back garden. I very much doubt it will see the light of day until Monday morning, and I’m not quite sure what I will do – my bike helmet and coat are at the office. I’m sure I’ll figure something out.
Anyway. There you have it. New bike. I rarely buy anything for myself. My other half said I didn’t stop smiling all the way home.