Nostalgia

"Remember when" may be my favorite saying. I love to be nostalgic. Over the last couple of years I have become obsessed with the things I had as a child. Whether it be a 1978 Batman mego doll or Tamiya Grasshopper, I can't get enough. I have had discussions with people about building the ultimate Nostalgia room. A room that is filled with unopened toys from the 80s, a pacman machine, and a cooler full of original coke.

I have been asked why I would want anything from my childhood. I can't really give a good answer but I can say, I like most people remember everything better than it really was.

One of those things was my first mountain bike. It was the summer of 1994 and I had just finished my first year in college. Based on the fact I hated walking to class, I knew I wanted to go back to school with a bike. After much deliberation I decided on a 1994 Trek 950. I remember the specs as if it was yesterday: 19.5 inches, ice blue, rigid fork, full lx components, and toe clip pedals. It was $700 including the tax. At the time it seemed like so much. I worked as a bank teller, and as a slave ripping up old carpet in my mother's house to get the cash together to pay for it. I spent the next three years beating the hell out of that bike. By the time I graduated, I had worn out almost every part on the bike. It was back in the day when I would actually wear out a part before I would go and upgrade.

After college, I got a new bike but I kept the 950 around for city riding as well as to lend out to the occasional friend who wanted to try mountain biking. Ah sweet such memories of my friend Keith taking it on one of his first rides. He hated falling so much he decided to punish my bike and throw it at a couple of trees. Reason enough to never lend anything again.

A few years later some unsavory person stole the 950 from my garage. Sure I collected from the insurance but I was pissed nonetheless. I had dreams about catching the thief. I dreamed about the beating I would give them. I know catching them was far fetched. I also knew there was a slim chance of finding the bike, but if you know me and you know the story of my peugoet (*see below), you know anything is possible.

Since the bike was stolen I searched occasionally on ebay for it. Fine I am lieing. I searched daily for it. Whats the big deal! I knew the odds of the thief posting it were slim but I also thought maybe there was a chance of finding a similiar one for sale. Of course there was little chance of me finding a replacement since I had a specific size and year in mind. A couple of years ago I came close but the bike was too small. I still never gave up and as of a few days ago I was able to finally put this obsession to rest. On ebay I found a basically perfect condition 1994 Trek 950. The guy selling it said he bought it new but it never fit him so it has been in storage ever since. What are the odds? So now it is mine. A bit of the past is back. I have only one promise for it. I will ride you as you deserve to be ridden. As if I am 18 and I have no where to be.


Looks like my Nostalgia room needs a bike rack.

*Side story - Peugoet

Just to show people that the odds can be against you and everything can turn out ok, I will tell you the story of my Peugoet. I got a 10 speed Peugoet road bike as a bar mitzvah gift. It was a great bike but being that I was 13 and growing it had a definite shelf life. It had been sitting at my mom's for years when Jake wanted to borrow it to ride around the city. When it wasn't being used, Jake stored it in the basement of his office. Well one night around midnight I came out of the path station to see the bike locked up to a bike rack. One might ask why I was looking so closely at a bike rack at midnight. The answer being, people who like bikes always look. It is sort of like pulling the brake levers on every bike in a bike store. It is just something we do. Anyway I called Jake and asked him why he left it outside. He proceeded to tell me I was nuts and the bike was safe and sound in the basement of his office. I told him there was no mistake it was my bike. After much reluctance, Jake got out of bed and went over to his office to check if it was there. Sure enough it was gone. I called the Hoboken police to tell them the situation. Much to my amazement the police had an undercover cop hang out at the bike rack waiting for the thief to return. Within an hour the cop got tired of waiting and just cut the lock and gave the bike back to me. I wish I was there to see the thief's face as he came out of the path to see his stolen bike was stolen.