A Letter Postmarked ‘Ugly’
It’s us. Your bikes. No not those new flashy bikes, but the other ones. The ones you ride all the time for everything. We are writing to thank you for all the good times. You remember those times. All those times that things didn’t end up like we expected, but we got through. Looking back, there weren’t many expectations, were there?
We know, it’s OK- we understand where we stand. Those beautiful days, those sunny days, those salad days. Those days will always be for the pretty ones. For the spotlight. Those days are for the flash, for the thoroughbreds. The stroll. We’ll always have them for that.
But us - we have so much more than that. We have the rainy days, the grocery days, the normal days. We have the rest. The let’s-just-get-there-because-that’s-most-important-after-all-days.
Because the beautiful ones have a way of making the ride about them. And that’s great in its own way. But our way is to step aside and let the big things be big things: you know - what’s out there, what we see, who we see, where we go, and what we do. We quietly help you carve out a little spot in life for yourself when you need it. Some shade. And we know that getting there is the most important thing. That getting there and arriving aren’t the same thing, and that biking is more important than bikes.
How do we know? How do we know it’s more important? Because we’re always the one closest to the door, that’s how. We’re the ones that you ride parts to smithereens on. We know because those beauties come and go, but we’re the ones you can’t ever bring yourself to sell. Because all those scratches and all those patches and all those dents and all those good times. All those memories. They’re a beauty we’ve built together that no flashy or shiny or trendy can replace. And we know it. And you do too. We’ve seen a lot together and that’s all we need. That and maybe some chain lube.
Your ugly bike