My first bike was a green Schwinn with white handles. From that bike to my current bike is a bit of a blur – I know I had several others but I don’t really remember them (except for the lovely candy apple red Fuji Thrill I had for three days before it got stolen at the Bethesda Metro Station. I replaced it with the ugliest bike I could find – a white Yokota girls’ mountain bike that survived every rough neighborhood I lived in through the first four years of art school).
My current bike started life as a GT Karakoram. It came in two paint finishes – fire engine red and black light, which was black paint with transparent metallic purple splatter effect. Which sounds really cheesy but was SUPER cool in the early 90s. Like Steve Austin, it was steadily upgraded into a bionic Frankenbike to be lighter, faster and able to get me up those last three blocks of Georgia Avenue to school with several tons of art supplies on my back. I think the only original parts on it now are the cranks, the front wheel, and possibly the brake cantilevers.
When I moved to Japan in 2004 to teach on The JET Programme, I took it with me. As we initially had training in Tokyo for 3 days, any luggage we didn’t need for those 3 days was shipped on to our final destinations. When I arrived in tiny Aida 3 days later, it was waiting patiently for me at the Board of Education.
Shortly thereafter, I had the following conversation about it with my supervisor, Shimoyama-kacho.
S-Kacho: Is this a bicycle?
Me: Yes, I had it shipped from LA. I’ve had it for a long time.
S-Kacho: You shipped it here?
Me: Yes.
S-Kacho: We have bicycles in Japan.
Me: I know. But this one is special.
S-Kacho:….
Of all the relationships I’ve had (outside of the ones I was born into, of course), the bike and I have been together the longest. It’s been with me through valleys where the wind blows both ways, through the green rice fields of summer, past rundown former mining towns, through the streets of Los Feliz and Silver Lake, all over DC and in and out of Rock Creek Park. I’ve even been chased by monkeys while riding it.
When we first arrived in Japan, we were told that the top two things stolen in Japan are bicycles and umbrellas. Both are easily replaceable (a decent bike for getting around town can be had for $100) and ubiquitous. People often “borrow” bikes to get from one place to another and abandoned bikes are everywhere.
One semi-inebriated night, my next-door neighbor and I liberated an abandoned bike from the local Happy Mart. It was a small steel folding bike with 15-inch wheels, 6 speeds, and a flat tire. I rehabilitated it, removed all of its identifying decals and took it to my in-laws to use when visiting them (and my now ex-husband) during school vacations.
It was a quirky thing – 15″ wheels aren’t much good for going up hills and the relative seat height made it much more unstable at all speeds. But it did have a rear wheel rack that was good for bungeeing things like groceries to. And, if it ever got a sideways glance, it was because of the gaijin riding it. If riding the mountain bike was athletic adrenalin power joy, riding the folding bike was carefree giggly childs play. In the local Walmart-equivalent, I found a pair of tire stem caps for it. They were tiny, motion-activated, clear plastic Godzillas that lit up when the wheels turned.
I was genuinely sad to leave it behind when I left Japan but I could only afford to bring one bike home with me. Hopefully, some other well-meaning person of slightly questionable morality has made off with it and given it a new home.
Bike stats for the curious:
1995 GT Zaskar LE frame with (mostly) Shimano Deore LX components. Rear wheel: a Bontrager aluminum rim with Ringle hub & titanium cassette. Front wheel: OEM Araya rim with LX hub. Thomson aluminum seatpost with Specialized seat. OEM Brahma bar handlebars with extender and adjustable stem. Carbon fiber front fork and some cheap pedals.
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