(ok, I'm more at like 1,600 at this point, but, you know, you can't always choose when you have time to do some writing.)

I got myself a fancy new bike this year, after years of having only terrible bikes. the grey bike and the blue bike ask very different questions of me. riding the blue bike, I always felt like I was "getting away with something". any time I pulled something off on that bike, it was the two of us together, us against the world. I had put a lot of blood, sweat, and tears into that bike.

the grey bike felt like a different way of being. it was always asking me: "why aren't we going faster?" "you know that the tires have more grip, right?" "are you sure that you couldn't have taken that corner with a little more entry speed?"

if I didn't pull one over on the world on the grey bike, it wasn't that machine's fault. it was definitely mine. it has been a hard transition, especially when I would periodically hop back on the blue bike and have my suspicions confirmed that it was just flat out uninterested in turning, or that acceleration was not in the least bit free on that bike.

the grey bike and I arrived absolutely beaten in Pittsburgh (day 1, day 2, day 3). (well, I did. the grey bike was fine and couldn't really understand what my problem was.) over time, I tried to make it up to the grey bike, putting in a few centuries back at home. I figured out how to fly it on the road, at least, on some descents that I knew well. 1249 and I reached an uneasy détente.

I rebuilt the blue bike as a singlespeed commuter to prepare for SSCXWC this year. I got away with some shit on the blue bike; climbing Page Mill single-speed without having to put a foot down was a lovely 39rpm experience. but I also started to ask 1249 for a couple of favors, if it wouldn't mind me putting it up to some shenanigans, too. I felt self-conscious, commuting through SF on a custom titanium bike, but when a car door flew open 6 feet in front of me while I was doing high-teens m.p.h., I politely, but firmly, asked 1249 if we could be in the other lane, and it and I came to a rapid agreement on this. I suddenly didn't mind commuting on it.

I asked 1249 to join me for a few other tasks. I put it up to some rocky singletrack in Tahoe. it was not the right machine for the job, but it was not... the wrong machine for the job. while the drops on the CAADX were a sluggish-handling place to ride, 1249 kindly suggested that if I got in the drops, it would be a little more docile as I shot off of every cobble in sight, making alarming sounds from the extra set of rims that I had just purchased from Jerry. the Vittoria Air-liner Gravel liners seemed to do their job, and 1249 declared no harm, no foul. it decided we could stop being serious and have at least a little mischief.

I asked it to put in a truly colossal day the other day, too. I let it down again. I got half way through an Everesting, and I was done. I put it back in the car, knowing that there wasn't really anything wrong with the bike that should've stopped me from continuing. it wasn't 1249's fault.

I plopped it inside and went to take a nap on the couch. I woke up. it felt like 1249 forgave me.