Back when I was in the bike shop, the workshop was my domain. It was a narrow dog-legged room with a door at each end: one led to the shop floor, and the other to the attic come bike store come dumping ground for 100-years of shop history. From the ceiling, wheels in various states of construction or deconstruction hung, and along the walls there were countless tools and storage bins filled with parts old and new. Besides this, there was the timber bulk of a pre-war workbench, two workstands plastered with past mechanics’ names; and a cylindrical black bin: the kind they used for street collections when I was a kid. This bin is where my story starts.
Now, this might, or might not, come as a bit of a shock to you: in 361 days, I’ll turn 50. That’s almost eighteen thousand days I’ve been living, breathing, and learning here on this planet. So the big question is: what have I learned over these thousands of days. If you’ve been following this blog for a while, which I hope you have, you’ll know that I’ve learned that you can never lose those illusive seven pounds, that you should always wear sunscreen, and that you should never underestimate a wiry old rider. But there’s more.