the means of escape (part 2)

I've no idea how I ended up getting my first proper bicycle from a shop in Alford, twentyish miles from the home village. I'll just ask...

"Because someone had told me it was a good place to go and buy a bike."

Fair enough. It was a very nice bicycle (especially for the price compared to comparable-spec devices available ready-built from bicycle-selling catalogues), especially compared to the kiddybike I'd had previously which had met its end when the downtube suddenly snapped in two one weekend morning when accelerating along Arnhem Way. Damn lucky it hadn't happened when a little further along given the way people drive along Abbey Lane or Lodge Road. I likewise don't think I'd have quite as many teeth as I currently have if it had snapped half-way down Belchford Hill although given the position of snapping it was probably the stress on the (shitey cheapy-arse mild steel) frame of hard pedalling which caused the snappage. Previousbike had served me reasonably well - earlier that summer we'd had a sponsored afternoon off at school during which I'd taken part in the bicycling-event and had easily kept up with people on far fancier and wider-gear-ranged bikes despite only having five gears and permanent mudguards and relatively fat wheels. Still, you can't argue with a snapped downtube and I was evidently deemed old enough and responsible enough and not-that-likely-to-grow-that-much-more enough to warrant a proper bicycle. Maybe it was just that it was obviously not exactly my fault as opposed to previous thing-breakages which were unfortunately parentally misinterpreted as not having been helped by my intervention.

Although this was only the early nineties there were already far more 'mountain' bikes in shops than sensible road bikes ('racers' had dropped out of favour as the term for drop-handlebar-ed vehicles following extensive study of the Freewheel catalogue) and I believe the target frame was the only one in the shop which would actually suit the terrain over which it would be used. 25" was probably pushing it at the time but according to the relevant charts my inside leg was already long enough it would leave a little bit of leeway for the shortish amount of height-gain remaining. I was assured by the proprietor that there was no difference in durability between a new frame and a reconditioned frame where Reynolds 531 was involved though my concern was warranted given what had happened to the previous frame though seeing as I'd been happily using my dad's forty-year-old Raleigh for my paper round since the breakage I shouldn't have been too concerned. I chose most of the bits to be added to the frame (though not the rim width for some reason) and went home to wait. A couple of weeks later I had my first proper bike (with a staggering twelve gears and at-the-time terrifyingly-narrow 22mm rims) and (given the ease with which vast distances could be ridden) a new-found freedom to explore further reaches of the county than could previously have been reached. The gearing was "sufficient for any hill in Lincolnshire" and (after testing this out) I developed a marked fondness for the hillier bits to the north of Horncastle rather than the flatter bits to the south-west of home.

Unfortunately the bicycle was replaced a few years ago following an argument with a slick of bus-oil on the Mound after which a few of the more delicate and bendable components resisted attempts to make them work properly but the frame (with Fred James logo still visible) is still safe in a cupboard. We'll be back down this way at the end of the year so I might make some enquiries and see if they still take in frames for repainting and refitting...