This is Jane
As far as I can tell, Jane's been pedaling around Europe since the early 80's. She did a bit a racing (or kicked around with people who thought they were racers) but she's mellowed out in the last few years.
It all started when she realized she didn't need to be so dressy. That's when things began to change. She replaced her gears with a single speed crankshaft, got her flywheel 'fixed', and left her rear brake behind in a rubbish bin. Now she just rides on bare, steel charm. And she's got that in spades.
I really wish I knew more about her . . .
How long she sat in a store or in a window before her first real ride? Her first rider. If he was brash or callous or quick or quiet? The day she got sold or left behind or stolen in the middle of the night.
When she got beat up, squelled under a flat tire, or was barreled over. Rider over handle bars, wheels still turning in the air, fork turned aside. And in that one calm moment before everything started moving again, what exactly did she think?
Where has she been since she sat in the store window? Who sat down at the end of the day and tightened her brakes, massaged her chain, and re-taped her handlebars? What has she seen and who has she known up to this Friday, when I met her on Boltoph Lane?
And how do I know her name is Jane?
2 comments:
When you know, you know
So you left Julia here at home in my good care. What should I tell her?
Post a Comment