Maybe. But that's not the world we live in.
Technically, Betty White has multiple cracks, that tarty little freakshow. And one of them has gotten obscenely loud, loud enough it has me worried. At this point, for multiple reasons, the Betty White metaphor should probably take a back seat for a moment so I can focus on the matter at hand; my bike is dying.
Handbuilt in Marin, CA in 1998, the original receipt was for a $1200 rigid hardtail with canti's that the buyer UPGRADED with a Mantiou elastomer fork. One of the first machined rear triangle bikes produced in CA for stiffness and weight savings. 100% dotcom, late 90's hot shotedness. Final price tag was damn near $2k. Worth every penny.
The dotcoms imploded, CA was left for Colorado, and the bike was sold to me in 2001 for pennies on the dollar - renamed, as anyone who has ridden in Golden, CO can appreciate, the silver bullet, I guess you'd have to see a photo or two of the old gal in her finer days to really behold the glory that used to be.
Countless trips to Utah.
A week of singletrack in Crested Butte.
Reconstructed for the 4th and final time.
Betty White and I have spent some great afternoons together, and in a way I think she's a part of me. Even Sunday, creaking like a bad screen door at a haunted house, Betty set a personal record (for me, not Betty) around the local gravel loop here in Earallysville. 49:27. With the right kind of earplugs and a complete dismissal of ones own safety, it's like she's never been better.
But eventually you gotta get out while the gettins still good (and your nads are still intact).
Mountain bikers and our bikes, we're sort of like lizards and their tails. Yes, we're connected. But fortunately the connection isn't permanent. They break, we get another. Betty White, I'll miss her, but she's heading to the big scrap pile in the sky and I've got my eye on the next 10 years.
Trek Demo. Friday, 5 - 8 PM at the BRC test track.
Where one idol falls, erect another.
If you can, eradicate all traces of the first.
Thanks for your patience. Dr. Crackframe will see you now.
Up, up, up.