In January of 1999 I crashed my bicycle in a head on collision with another cyclist who had drifted into my lane. That resulted in a severely bent the frame. It was custom steel Guerciotti time trial bike that had all Italian components by Campagnolo. I had owned it only a few months so I was not as attached to it as I might have been with time.
I immediately purchased a brand new bike: the 1999 Litespeed Blade — 61cm, brushed titanium 6Al/4V frame. It was the same style frame Lance Armstrong would time trial on in the Tour that year re-branded as a Trek. He won the Prologue and Individual Time Trial on his way to his first Tour victory.
I have ridden that bike all over the world since then: the length of both islands in New Zealand, Australia, Colorado, San Diego, Hawaii, Florida, Wisconsin, Lake Tahoe, the California deserts, Italy and more. I easily have over 150,000 miles on my bike.
It is nearly indestructible. I have crashed many times and it just gets up and keeps going. While I have suffered six broken wrists, two broken elbows, a titanium screw, several broken ribs and lots of road rash, the frame is essentially unmarked. I took a hair dryer and removed all stickers so it is naked. The only ID other than the distinct body style is the head tube badge.
The Blade is old and relatively heavy and looks clunky (similar to me!) but I recently rode close to 80 hours on it from December 4 to January 4. Surprisingly, I’m not seriously considering an upgrade. I asked myself, “Why?”
Then it hit me — mollycules, that’s why. Let me explain. I have been reading Irish literature by Flan O’Brien. He wrote, “If you hit a rock hard enough and often enough with an iron hammer, some mollycules of the rock will go into the hammer and contrariwise likewise.”
As O’Brien explained, the gross and net result of me riding 150,000 miles on the bicycle is that my personality has been mixed up with the personality of the Blade by interchanging mollycules. The bike has taken on some humanity. I never see it move by itself but the other day when it was pouring rain, it was indoors, leaning on wall, near the fire, close enough to hear family conversation and near the eatables.
I have to assume that this means I am filling up with titanium. I wouldn’t be surprised if I was 29% by now. My goal is to get up to something closer to 63%. When I pass I want them to say, “For five years before his death he was a bike.”
Dr. Kevin Purcell, DC. Dedicated to serving others …