Many eons ago my wife purchased two bicycles for us from a local supermarket. She then decided that she could not ride them. Dust settled. Rust fettled.

This is their story.

They sat at the back of our garage here in Lublin, deep in Eastern Poland for about 15 years, and I think in all that time I only rode mine, the blue one two or three times. This was strange in one way as I had grown up largely it seemed on two wheels. Arthritis had taken its toll, along with work mainly at a desk, but no more. They would, like a pair of unlikely phoenix, get me off my ass and back on the road and in the garage.

Figuring that if wifie had not ridden hers at all then she must have defaulted on her usage rights, I set about minimising the level of equipment on hers, the red one, aka 'Tigger', and maximising it on mine, 'Blue. The plan is to make Blue a classic, rural style runaround I can use for shopping, and Tigger a fun, moving fitness machine. I have few facilities or tools, and little will to create a workshop, but a lot of faith.

And not much money.

Winter is coming on, and the garage is unheated.


Blue, in all its unfolded glory