Five years ago and some twenty thousand less kilometres is where the introductions to one of my best friends began. This friend would introduce me to roads and places not seen by many well also bringing me into a better physical condition and spirutually. He would show me views that are hard to describe well taking your breath away, and teach me lessons in life that “should” be so obvious.
His name of course is Bad Boy.
Bad Boy was a long quest to find the correct bike to help me get a form of transportation to work instead of relying on the dreaded transit system, or wasting gas in car. More importantly the Bad Boy was going to get my now fat ass back in shape because the first year in Germany had a bit too much of the food culture attaching to me.
Knowing the rules of the increased heart-rate club from early on I was no stranger to the health benefits and ability to turn things around by pounding the peddles. See for some strange reason I have always been wanting to ride bikes. Be it as a child I could always be found out on a BMX, or dreaming of riding. When I was diagnosed with leg cancer at an early age the biggest things I could only think of was riding my bikes again. It was even during my recovery years where doctors told me that I was not strong enough to ride a bike that I even joined the cycling team of my local high school. It was not easy to have in our community riders who would go pro and where on the national olympic team to ride with. I mean I could not even get up the first hill on our first ride out. Still by the end of the season I was finishing well in races, and one year later taking second in our team races. More to the point the doctors where simply amazed by how well my bone graphs where healing and how much stronger and better in shape I had become. For me that was simply the hard lesson learned that I still carry forwards. Basically the harder path is really the easier path and comes with a great education and quality of life.
Now in Europe and having cycling lanes everywhere the idea of a new bike was eating away at me like a million ants under my skin. The problem was did I want a racing bike, mountain bike like my Cannondale I left behind and miss in Toronto (20 years old), or a dutch type bike. I mean if you know me you know I will search things out to the end of the earth to find the right match by going through shops, internet, forums, etc. One day at a local shop I saw the 700 disc brake version of the Bad Boy and after a test drive it was done:
It just clicked!
The bike fit well, had hydraulic disc brakes like I wanted, skinny tires 25mm Schwalbe Kojak, but most importantly the top frame so I could change wheels, tires, or anything else I found to alter him into my ultimate weapon.
As a friend we have shared and still share many a mile alone together through some pretty amazing conditions and this is simply the Bad Boy making his introduction.
The Bad Boy Stories will continue…..
Peddle Peddle !