My Old Kentucky Airstream Home and Farewell To A Good Friend

Over the last two weeks I have been a bit delinquent about posting.  I left Kentucky and headed back to Austin for a few days at home and the Tri Rock Austin event.  I can't believe how HOT it is here but still, it is good to be back home in Texas.  My body is still resisting though I am making slow progress and still on track for upcoming events.

I wanted to backtrack a little with this post and show you the absolutely stunning scenery that I enjoyed for the entire month of August.  The farm is old and full of History.  I was parked under an enormous walnut tree beside the farms original house.  It was built in 1795 and overlooked rolling hills and beautiful ponds.  There was a grave marker built into the walk leading to the front door.  In all, it was an incredible place, full of history and bustling with the activity of several training operations, and a wonderful setting for the Airstream and I.

On a sad note, I sold Trigger.  A group of friends got together and bought the bike from me as a gift for another braider.  She is going through a divorce and has two kids in college.  She desperately wanted the bike but could not justify the expense.  A number of people, most of whom know their trades (myself included) due to her tutelage, chipped in to give her one wicked 50th birthday present.  I donated the tune-up.  I got a call after she got the bike.  She was so excited I thought she might cry.

The first couple of weeks that she had the bike were spent in Kentucky.  She rode it nearly daily and we spent a lot of hours talking bikes.  There had once been a bit of a rift between she and I, but that was clearly gone.  When the show was over, she packed the bike up and headed home to Florida.  She stopped in Gainesville to visit her son and while there, the bike was stolen.  I posted information online and have been watching the usual sale sites; she called the police.  Sadly, to date, Trigger has not been recovered.

It is amazing how much emotion came up when she told me it was stolen.  I cried.  I felt like I had lost something important.  I changed my life on that bike.  It was my partner through so much.  Holidays spent alone and lonely were spent on that bike, miles to ease the discomfort.  I lost more weight than I ever though possible.  It was the first shred of athletic confidence (I may be fat and slow everywhere else, but I can fly on a bike) but safe, smooth, and tractable in it's handling.  It was pretty but not pretentious.  It did it's job without bravado or pretense.  I will miss that bike.

Trigger, I will miss you.

I was driving back to Texas when she called.  After we got off the phone, I looked in the rear view mirror at my new bike (it was in the SUV with me and the dogs) and said out loud "It's just you and me now Seabiscuit."  It felt significant for some reason.  It was like the safety net was gone.  The entry level road bike, the Athena division, the comfort zone.... all gone.  It was time to show up, step up, and start carving out my spot in this weird little world.

Next up:  Race report from Tri Rock Austin!