|Come on in, have a look around, perhaps you'll see something you like...|
My first visit to the Bisbee Bicycle Brothel in Bisbee, AZ, left me feeling both morose and elated. Morose: roads not ridden, trips not taken, races never run, regrets, missed connections, sunsets long gone, beautiful lithe racing machines I'll never own. Elated: beautiful machines that might actually be possessed and ridden, some of the most excellent steel tubing ever formed by the hands of man into machines you can ride, graceful bicycles that take your breath away. Expertly restored. With many miles ahead of them. Turning my attention to the rides and miles yet ahead of me.
I realize this is more about the bike porn than words. Take a look at this first one, which my eyes settled on with lust and yearning as I entered the store:
|Alex Singer Touring, 1972|
|may I....touch your lugs?|
And that was just the beginning of my bicycle brothel adventure. The French one a bit too much perhaps? Out of reach? How about this one, also worthy of unbridled adulation?
|Bridgestone MB-1. Looked a little small for me, else I would have been $900 poorer instantly. But maybe...|
|Monsters of the sport, riding their monster machines, covering the wall|
|Just in case you want your shifting to feel as if your derailleurs are perfectly connected to your mind|
|Oh the saddles!|
|Bates diadrant front forks|
|Ken Wallace, Bicycle Brothel Proprietor|
On the one hand, browsing these classic machines, my own minor 20k daily commute on my own minor machine tends to pale in comparison. On the other, a visit here raises so many possibilities, opens so many avenues, inspires and offers confirmation, validation, and of course, purchase opportunities. There's nothing wrong with a dream to ride something like this along back roads in France some day. Or just to sweeten my daily 20k. I'll be back. With $900 in my pocket. Thinking of Eddy and Alex.