The Building of a Beast

5 O'clock could not come soon enough on Saturday. I occupied myself as best I could at work all day but kept having to talk myself out of running down the 11 flights of stairs and out the front door. Our staff began clocking out at 5:00. At 5:02, I was out of there. By 6 my frame and I were pulling up outside of Tim's place. Tim's wife, Heather, was coming around the side of the house, covered in grass from a day of 'beginning of not-winter-anymore' lawn maintenance.
Tim too showed evidence of recent lawn work. He and Kevin were hanging out in the garage. All kinds of toys lined the walls. Bikes hung from the ceiling, bike parts were spread all over the floor. Boxes overflowed with bike parts.

Kevin presented me with my very own hydration pack. We threw the frame up onto a mountain bike jack (I actually have no idea what the device is called, but it sure was handy) and I picked my own tires from amoung many selections. I learned how to take a tire off the rim and how to put it back on. How to overfill the tube until the threads line up (when you hear it go 'pop'), let air back out, and then fill them to an 'appropriate for riding' level. I was taught to have due respect for nuts. Not to pinch them or clamp down too tight, also to make sure they are straight. (turns out, bike terminology is open to interpretation and easily inuendo-fied. Not that ANYONE in that garage that night would stoop to such lows).
We put the wheels on and there was the form of a bike.

Justin and his wife, Jenna, came to play too. She and I will be new to the trails together this year and I am more than pumped to have someone coming into the community at the same time so we can learn together.

The bike came together before my eyes. An orange Trek 4300 frame, yellow and black wheels, disk breaks with a blue caliper, shifters, a 9 speed cassette, a sea green seat, Shimano derailleurs, a black Specialized handlebar, red Salsa grips. "It's gotta be called Frank," Justin declared, "as in FrankinBike." We all agreed.


Threading the break and shifter cables through the correct housing stitched my monster together. Dan tested the sifters and breaks as Tim adjusted the cables; lightening struck and the creature came to life. For an interminable instant Tim and Frank had a stare down, the former running a mental check on the latter. I was all but crawling up the walls. Finally he took it off the mount, grinned, and released the bike to my eager self.

Riding up and down the block, I was full blown Fidgit. A self that has been hibernating since last September. A self that smiles big and cheesy and whose heart swells up like a helium balloon at a birthday party.


There are not enough thank yous in the whole wide world to convey to these folks how very happy and excited I am. So I figure, I'll just have to prove it by 1) Riding as much as I want 2) Getting at least 2 other new people out on the trails to play 3) Doing my part to protect, expand, and enjoy the trails.