Originally Posted by
Ancient Mariner
What a wonderful story. I strongly suspect it could only have happened in the Bay Area.
I suspect it is human nature to occasionally regret divesting ourselves of things we once owned with great pride; I tend to regret selling much of my old camera equipment. I'm slowly coming around to the realization that decisions made 'for cause' should never be second-guessed, and true regrets should never be confused with nostalgia.
I sold my Giant FCR-2 a few months ago to make room (physically and financially) for a Giant Defy Composite 2, and still find myself missing the older bike. I now finding myself looking around for a 'deal' on another one. Buying back the same bike someday would be way too much to hope for, but I would welcome the opportunity.
I opened my garage this morning to let my kids eye this classic machine which is older than any of them. My daughter thought it was cool because of the re-unification aspect. Girls seem to understand the more emotional aspects of nostalgia or regret/loss. My son really liked the look and the incredible (lack of) heft. "Wow, Dad! This is steel? It's light!"
Then it struck me again. Looking around along the wall on my bike hooks and on the ground, there were mostly bikes that were all older than my kids. Even my son's bike, I picked up on CL for $45. It was an old classic CB-2 which I rebuilt about a year and a half ago. His odometer just turned over on 1200 miles. The meaning of VINTAGE is almost like an unending bottle of great wine. It keeps getting better with age, but it continues to deliver such taste and satisfaction with more consumption - never growing old and stale. I realized there is a responsibility in all this too - and that is to respect the steel a lot and take as good care of it while we ride it - maybe even ride it hard - but to take care of it for perhaps our own consumption or for the next owner. I'm glad that all the previous owners of No. 54 did respect that bike, whomever they were.