|Art on the outside wall of the Mercado|
We're on the verge, the edge, the precipice here in Phoenix, of the great weather. Definitions vary according to personal preference, but being a lizard-like desert rat, I prefer my weather hot and dry, in the mid-80s to mid-90s being the Zone of Perfection. Saturday morning, at a civilized time and not the crack of dawn and after sufficient coffee had been consumed, I opted to ride the Flatland Commuter bike down to Guadalupe for the Garage Bike Shop bike swap, not so much because I am desperately in need of more bicycles or parts, but because a quick run to Guad in the Zone of Perfection (or on the brink of it) sounded awesome. It was.
|Bike swap and breakfast burritos: awwww yeaaaaaaa|
|The Mercado was not exactly bustling with wild swap action|
|An excellent bike rack in an excellent location|
|Was going to ask the kid about a road crank set. Seemed more like the BMX type though.|
|More Mercado wall art in the Yaqui tradition|
For me, this was more about the ride than the swap, and it was pretty quiet in the Mercado as you can see, at least when I got there. The Garage Bike shop seemed like my kind of place, lots of old bicycles and people working on bikes, and some knowledgeable guys helping out. Now that I have a good Saturday route sussed out to get down there without tangling with too much traffic, I plan more Zone of Perfection rides in that general direction.
While riding down here on the Flatland Commuter project bike, it occurred to me that when you are riding a bicycle that you put together yourself with parts that you had or bought that seemed like they would work, at least for a while, every ride can feel like a experiment in two-wheeled locomotion. This time I was trying out a new saddle and seat post, and as you have probably experienced yourself, a new saddle takes some getting used to and usually some adjustment, before it begins to feel comfortable and familiar. Since I tend to feel very closely connected to my bikes when I ride them, this unfamiliar and somewhat experimental sensation makes me feel myself somewhat unfamiliar and experimental, like there's more than one of me, which one depending on which bike I ride, how I ride it, what parts I've put on it, and how they are set up. So I guess I went down to Guadalupe with the potential of swapping myself out for a new self. Or an alternate. There's more than one of me. One thing we all seem to have in common though is that we like to go for a ride in the Zone of Perfection.