A pheonix with a new frame.

The moment I had been waiting for had arrived.

With frame and forks safely arrived that morning my new favourite Swiss bike mechanics set to work and had her ready to roll the very same day

They were perhaps a little less excited than I was.

With slighly more trepedation than I had anticipated and slightly more twitchy about errant traffic pulling out on me I was reunited with my valient steed.

A warm embrace for my reforged beauty.

With only the wheels, saddle and racks remaining from the original build I descended into sophistry wondering if this was in fact my old bike or a new one. How much must be replaced before an object ceases to exist and becomes something new?

Fortunatley I was saved from this philosophcal dead end by the call of the road on a rainy Wednesday. The Alps here I come.