My bicycle named Julius is only two weeks old, and having him makes me feel like a new parent. I’m learning how much I don’t know about the baby, and his many shiny parts. People ask me the weirdest questions. And I feel like an irresponsible mother, sometimes; call me naive.
Everywhere I go (and I pretty much go everywhere with Julius) people are striking up random conversation with me about my orange bike: at least three people a day–folk from all walks of life. Here they come, on the street; as I go to unlock my two u’s; on the occasional metro. They even emerge as Julius sits parked behind the Espresso bar where I work. Who knew all these people were so into orange Treks?
This never happened to me with Schwinny, the kind $130 periwinkle blue bike from Target.
In the last two days, the cool thing for people to wonder over has been Julius’ drive train. As far as I can tell, “drive train” is a fancy bikey way of saying “the thing that makes your pedals turn the chain.” You wouldn’t believe how many questions I get asked about this thing.
When I talk to certain people, I sort of feel like my child is being hyper-examined by an overly enthusiastic doctor. And me? I’m the lame mother who doesn’t know the names of the vital appendages of her baby. Oops.
If cars insulate us into suburbia, new bicycles certainly encourage some strange community.
(Photo by Margie & James)