Recently I went into a bike shop to
escape the zombie apocalypse kill time, and saw something titanium and bike-shaped for sale. This triggered my salivary glands, as I have a
ti fetish due to its high strength-to-weight ratio and the fact that basically I like shiny things.
One of the first qualities I look for in a bike is how easy it will be to scrape off the decals. It's hardly a deal breaker, but it does put me in a happier 'spendier' place. This passes the fingernail test. (Next time you see a bike in a shop with a tiny bit of the decal turned up, blame me.) Then my eyes slide down to the drivetrain.
It's got gear
s.
Since going single I've come to regard derailleurs almost as cancerous growths. This is entirely unfair: multiple gears are wonderful, I would almost go so far as to say miraculous. But at some point in the last few years my brain has quietly rewired itself and now regards singlespeed as the natural order.
I look at the vertical dropouts and think, OK, I'll just find the magic gear. First I've got to strip off all those superfluous Ultegra bits. Pity.
It's a pleasantly absurd train of thought, not least when contemplating the logistics of organising a new identity and plastic surgery after my wife sees the credit card statement, so I say goodbye to the bike which can't possibly know how over-specced it is and carry on my way, still drooling slightly.
