Yesterday I said goodbye to my first serious road bike. It wasn't my first good road bike, but it was the first one I researched, saved for, and had to reach some personal weight loss goals to be able to get. I must have ridden 30 different road bikes in all the LBS's within 50 miles of my house to decide what bike I wanted. They go so tired of seeing me. Then, I had to save the money to get it, which took another 18 months (funny how 25 years ago, a particular model would have more of a shelf life than bikes do today). In any event, yesterday my 1980's Specialized Sirrus with 105 components went out the door with my oldest son who was looking for a beater bike to ride to work/school this winter. He's graduating in Dec. but will still be taking classes (as part of an extended scholarship that will help him move into his graduate program) well into the spring. Hence, he doesn't have a lot of money right now. It's funny I thought I'd feel sad on the day this bike was gone. I don't. I actually feel pretty good that it's no longer stranded on the indoor trainer and will see some road time again under a young man I'm kind of fond of.
Now, I know what bike I'll move onto the trainer, but no clue about what I'll put up on the hook in the shed to fill the empty spot that makes.