Roto-blog

there's always a wind-up

Monday, June 27, 2005

Tricked Out!

The PSitir of OeMsley took its initial voyage today, with an inaugural voyage following a few hours later. It's neither a she nor a he, hence no maiden voyage, nor a mascu-line equivalent. What would that be? A bachelor voyage? What-ever. We're not havin' any o' them here!

Fitted out with a new chain, but not kitted out, we went to the BIke Pro shop in KH for a bit of advice about what next, and came away with a bit of hardware and a few idears. We managed to negotiate traffic on KH High Street without being mauled, hauled or cat-called. We went to the cop shop to report the thing as having been found, and were duly congratulated for our honesty on the bench. We then pedalled back up High Street skipping a few sprocet teeth, grinding the gears while trying to make time in the flow of Goods-Heavy Vehicles and manic Right-Turners. We made it home safely and in one piece.

Thereafter ensued a discussion with the landlord and the plumber as to the best way to fix a silly design flaw that probably led to our lovely trike being dumped, ceremoniously, on Cotton Lane. Said flaw has to do with chainjamming, and is somewhat technical, so I will avoid it here, as it would require several close-up photographs of the nethers. Maybe some other time.

That done, further repairs commenced and were concluded by half-seven, and, given the remaining daylight, prompted another trip to Nandra's offie in pursuit of a christening liquid. This constituted the inaugural voayge, where the christening (Oh, this is a Christian bike, then?) occurred after the return home.

The next task is to get the thing kitted out in regalia. Bunting? Stripey handlebar thingies? Cool stencils of the newly-minted name? A trick box at the back for carrying shoes, peripherals, and the occasional lawnmower? (I would like to convert the rear axle into a set of blades. That would be fun, ecologic, and might prompt the odd suburban lawn-mowing job. Lawn would have to have some turning room though.) So what befits our Stirip of Someley? Skirts? A necktie? Both? A bit of drag? Balloons? Festoons?

That's a question for the Ages.