Goodbye, Raleigh M50

You were a good bike. Though I only came to truly appreciate you in the past few years, we hung in there together for quite a while – since 2000, if my memory is correct. I only took you out on true dirt trails a couple of times – remember that trail around Sugar Loaf that was like a grade 5 and was totally murderous? It totally kicked our asses. But we had fun on some neighborhood trails along Sligo Creek and near the parental household. You were definitely a good bike, and only the second one I’ve ever owned.

The first was a BMX Huffy, black and gold. As a kid, I thought I could pedal fast enough to travel across dimensions. We built ramps, and we popped wheelies. We thought we were like the BMX Bandits of Berkeley or something. We skidded everywhere, and generally rode like hellbent children (no helmets!) determined to tackle the winding streets of our little Albany neighborhood streets like…well, like impatient children. No metaphor really works here.

So, I have owned two bikes in 30 years. I’m sure there are men out there who have had 10 bikes in that same span of time, but I guess I’m old fashioned. A serial monogamist in the bicycle world.

And now some dickless piece of shit stole you, and I am not sure what I ought to be feeling - anger, sadness, disappointment, all of the above...In any case, goodbye, Raleigh M50. You were a good bike.