Trusty Steed

One thing has remained constant during my travels. 

And that most faithful friend is well deserving of an ode

A bicycle born near Bristol

Heard a silent starters pistol

April fools! I'd not subject you to that. Just a tribute in picture form to a supporter of loads and chaser of horizons. 

Many people name their bicycles but mine remains an enigma. I fret over this. In naming we imbue a thing with significance. Is it then a thoughtless lack of respect that leaves my bicycle short a sobriquet? I hope not.


She's come a long way.

Conquered  mountains

Crossed deserts

Come rain

and shine

A brave bike in the face of real

And imagined dangers

Met colorful kindred spirits

But none so lovely to me as my black and white beauty

A faithful shadow when life was a beach

And when the road got rough

She has taken to the seas

Even hitchhiked when necessary

Unencumbered with anything so inelegant as a kick stand she has instead perfected the nonchalant lean. 

Having practiced on many lodgings 

She can lean on just about anything

She's chased many rivers

And forded more than a few

Played with the animals

Raced camels

Met friendly people

Old

And young

Even met her twin on the other side of the world.

Highs

Lows

Ups

Downs

Indignities

Terrible indignities

Even some pain

At times I could barely recognize her

But she always came back to me and together we carried on.

I still don't know her name but I know I love her. Strong bearer of burdens, preserver of liberty and closest to my heart.