Really! It’s super emotional. And you kind of take a chance, too.

Riding around the store and around the block is like a first date. Some dating folks don’t call the first date a date. They call it “the obligatory introductory drink”, or “date zero”, and all sorts of other un-date-like things. But I digress!

So, you take some bikes out for a test drive, and you probably know that none of them is likely to be perfect. But you need a bike, just one bike, cause your last one tried to kill you, and you’re going to find one that’s pretty close, and gives you what you need.

Then you try one that’s really beautiful and comfortable, and it’s the right size, and colour and you can afford it. And you buy it, but there’s so much still to find out about it. Stuff you’ll only notice as you spend a little time with it, er, on it.

T​he only difference is, with a bike, if it’s not quite right, you can make it over and it doesn’t take offence. ​And it doesn’t break up with you. In fact you have to count on customizing your bike a little bit.  Even then you can’t have everything.

Especially if you’ve ever had your bike stolen. It’s a bit like being widowed, because what bike will ever measure up to the one that got away!

For example, I was looking for something very much like my old Miele, my beautiful lovely 40’s style two-tone white-walled Miele, that made old ladies and children smile! Upright, so my hands don’t hurt from leaning over, but not all the way upright, which makes it harder to maneuver. Something with winter tires, something low maintenance, with elegant lines, wide handlebars. Then I also wanted internal gears, … And as time passes, how long till I get used to the different shape? Does everything really work right? Is the bike going to live up to its name, to its promise of durability?

OK, never mind. Buying a bike is nothing like falling in love, …except now that I’ve fixed it all up, and it’s standing in my living room, I just can’t stop looking at it.