Goodbye Blue

A few days ago I sold my bike. My faithful steed of 8 years was sold through a bike sale event, and so I dropped it off and walked away.  I'm something of a minimalist, so the sense of loss I've felt since leaving it has been strange.  It felt like dropping my dog off at the pound.

I bought it on a sunny day in late April 2015.  I'd finished my Masters degree in 2012 been either unemployed or minimum wage employed for 3 years.  It was a rough time.  And so after securing gainful full-time employment I waited for the snows to melt, did my research and went to the bike shop.

It was a 2015 Kona Jake in blue.  A cyclocross bike - because why choose between road or gravel when you can have both? - I had it outfitted with fenders, a rear rack, and pannier bags.  It became the embodiment of my newfound financial security and independence, gave me the freedom to explore and travel, and a way to exercise and feel the wind in my hair.

I commuted to work with it for almost 4 years.  Leaving home for day shifts at 4:45am or leaving work after night shifts at 6am on my commute along the Bow River, up Nose Creek, and into the industrial Northeast of Calgary and back.  Sun, rain, snow, hail, fog, smoke - and whatever the hell "ice crystals" are as a weather condition - through headwinds and tailwinds we went back and forth through four seasons, year after year.  It was my exercise on training days, my commuter on work days, my minivan on grocery runs, my sports car on fast rides, and my escape on those days when I needed to get away.

Ice cream in Cochrane.  Beer in Airdrie.  Picnics in Chestermere.  Camping in Vulcan.  Antiquing in Nanton.  Highways.  Byways.  Asphalt, gravel, and dirt.  Wheat fields.  High roads and low roads.  Errands.  The climbing gym.  Admiring the city and the mountains from Nose Hill.  Circumnavigating the city.  Sitting in the shade in Fish Creek Park.  Watching sailboats on the reservoir.  It took me there.

It's just an object, an item, a manufactured piece of technology.  But it gave me so much more freedom than I'd had for years.  I sold it this week.  It's gone now.

I have a new bike, one that I'm sure will give me the same freedom and be with me for so many new experiences.  But until that time, I'll miss my blue Kona Jake.