Reidy

I love the smell of the bike shop. Its that greasy newness that tempts you into buying a new bike every time you walk around looking at the shiny frames.

When I look at all the new models I almost feel as though I am cheating on my own steel stallion.

John comes out of the workshop wheeling my bike, I call him Reidy, he has had a new rear tire, a chain and new pedals fitted. The chain has that manufacturers oil that looks dull and shiny at the same time. It feels like a crime to take it out on the road to get dirt all over it.

“There you go he’s all ready for you.”

“Thanks John, but I’m still not sure about the pedals.”

“Look you have to come into the 21st century at some point. Those old flat pedals you had made you look as though you were on your way to do your paper round.”

“I know but those new type of pedals. I don’t trust them. I’m scared that when I stop pedaling that my feet will get stuck and I’ll fall over.”

“Okay, go for a ride tomorrow. Do that nice ride up to Alpine. Lots of climbing and some fast descents. If you are not sure when you get back, I’ll take the new shoes and pedals off you and you can go back to your paper round pedals.”

“Okay, you have a deal.”

Twenty-four hours later I walk into the bike shop with a big grin on my face. I hand a newspaper to John.

“You can keep those old pedals John.”

273 words