Beater

There are some things in life that you just can't get rid of. Let me rephrase that. It's not that you are actively trying to rid yourself of the object, but more you wouldn't be heartbroken if it were to, y'know... lose itself. But then somewhere along the way you get attached to it and the nostalgia that accompanies the toy becomes larger than it's monetary worth.

Exhibit A: My old Specialized Rockhopper. I bought it with paper route money (and some help from the folks) the year before I entered 7th grade. By my calculations I have had the thing for over 15 years. I bought it because before I had ever mountain biked, I desperately knew I wanted to be a mt. biker. As an aside, curiously I knew I wanted to climb before I ever did that as well; our teenage selves can be surprisingly perceptive at times. Anyways, in that time since it has never been stolen, and much of the bike consists of the original parts. I took the 'ol beater down to the Cyclery here in Corvallis, and the diagnosis brings a tear to my eye. The replace list includes:

1. Bottom bracket: still spins...err grinds. I have my suspicions that the ball bearings are long gone, and the thing somehow makes use of crushed rock that has infiltrated it over the years.
2. Headset: Requires hand tightening mid-ride. Otherwise a mid-ride handlebar/stem removal would occur. Upon application of grease converts said grease to road tar within days.
3. Derailleurs: Front derailleur is irreparably cracked. The rear is starting to do that ghost shifting thing.
4. Shifters: Replaced numerous times as my knees (long legs) tend to deliver devastating upper cuts. The front shifter is circling the drain.
5. Brake pads: I probably have put a dozen on over the years. Same goes for the chain.
6. Brake Levers: Amazingly the bike still has the original levers. I may carbon date them someday.
7. Saddle: Originates from that gel seat craze in the early 90's. Still amazingly squishy, maybe too squishy as it's like riding on a water bed sometimes. The seat post looks like it was attacked by a wolverine.
8. Wheels: The front hub and rim are, astonishingly, the original. The rim is wafer thin due to excessive mashing in my many attempts to endo early in my mountain biking career. The bike has seen two tacoed rear wheels, one of which was courtesy of a parked car.
9. Tires: Long since replaced, the "new" slicks once resembled a rubber like substance.
10. Frame: 3 huge dents on the toptube but since it's steel I'm OK with that. Numerous chips in the paint. Chain stays exude rust.
    

To borrow the metaphor, it's a "face only a mother could love" would be an understatement. To fix all of these problems would cost me about $200, on a bike that I couldn't give away. But I'm fond of the beater. Having a bike that looks like a shipwreck has its benefits too. Nobody is going to steal this thing when there's a flashy Bianci parked right next to it at school. Is it worth 200 bones? Probably not, but it might last me another 15 years at this rate, and pedestrians can be thankful that they can hear my fenders rattle as I careen through intersections.