my bicycle isn’t finished but it is ride able, in a gingerly manner, but ride able none the less. thanks to a recession labour lay off, shamira’s keen eye for hiring signs, outrageous insurance premiums, my new fucking sweet pal leila, keith the neil peart worshipper at EBC, and the perks of being in the employ of a bicycle shop i am nearly ready to sell my car, slap on some stylish (see: necessary) parts, and make the shift from fossil fuel consumer to bicycle commuter.
leila and i are building up a 1976 Apollo frame (model name as yet unknown) into what i hope will be my new vehicle of necessity, choice, and pride. i won’t lie. fixed gear gallery has been my inspiration.
my steed remains unnamed. possible titles include a simple description of the tri-color rattle can fade yellow-unknown-brown, P2P aka “Puke-to-Poop”, or a BSG homage, Captain Apollo.
i won’t bore you, anonymous and non-existent reader, with the technical details of my plan for restoration and neighborhood “sweet ride” domination but trust me it will be sweet… when i can get it to stop falling apart, screeching and rattling.
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