I love riding bikes. I remember learning to ride my first bike with no training wheels in the cul-de-sac where we lived in Fort Polk. I remember my dad cheering me on.
I remember the last bike I rode as a kid. It was sweet– purple and green a la 1990, and it had the wrapped handbars so it looked like a real racing bike. I stopped riding it so much after my brother broke his arm on his bike while we were on a Thanksgiving ride. After that, I was scared to really go down hills or go fast. I outgrew that bike, and I still remember feeling sad when my dad disposed of it. I knew it was illogical to be attached to it, but I am pretty sure I cried that night over my bike. I hadn’t ridden it in a long time, so there was no reason for me to be upset, but I was.
I rode other bikes after that, but I never really got attached to a bike again the way I did with my first ten-speed. Until, at the ripe old age of 30-something, I sold my car and I bought a Giant Rove 2. At just over $600, this bike was a luxury bike to me. I rode it like crazy all summer long. I rode to work and home from work… and when winter came, I put the bike in the garage and felt pure, unadulterated envy of the folks brave enough and rich enough to own and ride fat-tire bikes in all winter conditions.
And then people I know started getting fat bikes. Everyone told me that studded tires were the way to go. My boyfriend’s dad promised me that the bike would handle better on the ice than my own two feet, and he let me ride his around the block. The prices started coming down. One day, I started looking at my dream bikes– a Salsa bike and a 9:zero:7 bike. While doing this, one of those sponsored ads promised me a solid budget bike. I took the bait, and it let me to a bike company called Framed. I was sold on a Minnesota 2.0, and there was even a dealer in Anchorage!
I called the dealer, and made an appointment for a week later to check out the bikes. My boyfriend and his dad went with me, and I left with a different bike than I went to look at, but I couldn’t have been more in love with a bike if it had been an exact replica of my first ten-speed. Over the next couple of days, I got pedals, studded tires, lights, poagies, a helmet and goggles. Now, I’m one of those crazy, brave people! I love my fat bike, which as been affectionately dubbed a number of nicknames, Blue Lightning, Baby Blue Beluga, Fat Baby, and the Beast.
My dad got a fat bike, too, so now we have daddy-daughter rides to look forward to!