Like many in high-end cycling, I started on a lowly mountain bike. I rode that entry-level Trek 3700 so hard I ran out of gears. I knew I needed something more.
I had a need for speed, as we like to say.
When you’re used to riding an entry-level Trek 3700 and you jump to a full-on race bike, it’s hard to describe the exhilaration, the ease of speed. It’s like graduating from an old step-side pickup to a corvette. All of a sudden your average pace goes from 15-mph to 20, with no more effort.
Later down the road, after parts start to wear and wheels fail, the paint chips (or in my case, gets scratched by a careless person at a fun ride with the family) you rebuild that bike you’ve spent so many hours on… the satisfaction when the project is complete is grin-inducing.
Now that’s just the rain bike. Before long, you’ll find you’re powerless against picking up a “good” bike (then upgrading every part you can fit on it). Three pounds lighter and fourteen years newer, a marvel of modern carbon fiber and technological advances… an aerodynamic achievement.
While the Trek looks very different from what it started out as, my Venge has just as many new parts on it… in fact, with the new chainrings I put on the bike a few weeks ago, the only thing that isn’t original on that bike is the frame, fork and bearings.
While bike p⊗rn is always fun to look at and the toys are fantastic, the best feature of cycling is going to all of those places to take those photos, making memories that’ll put a smile on my face for the rest of my life. Some think spending $10,000 on a few bicycles is nuts. I’d argue I get every penny’s worth out of mine.
I will guarantee you, you won’t get this sitting on the couch: