Shouldn't I be happier?

On 27 Dec 2006 19:39:59 -0800, "Ron Wallenfang"
wrote:

I named two bikes in the 1968-69 era - the "Old Nixon" and the "New
Nixon", which conjured up a variety of images at the time - probably
many fewer now. I've long since quit the practice.

I've a friend who is riding the same bike now as then (1973).
His bike's name is Nish.
--
zk

On 24 Dec 2006 12:12:48 -0800, "The Historian"
responded:

[2] My bikes are named after American conservationists: Henry is named
for Thoreau, and commuter bike Waldo for Emerson. I had intended to name
my newest bike Leopold, after Aldo. (Aldo and Waldo being just a little
too close.) But this bike is so--zonal--with its silver paint and black
accessories, that I ended up naming him Ansel.

Do people often name their bikes? A friend of mine is restoring a 1978
Volkswagon Vanagon, which he has named "Brooke." And I call my car "The
Neilmobile", which is close to being a name, although it's more
properly a title. But I've never heard of naming your bike.

My motorcycles and cars had names too.
What they were more often called was something entirely different.

My bikes are all named. It's my shorthand instead of a description.

These bikes were built up from new/used parts:
joe-bike = 1985 Norco MTB city bike
Ellie = Ellis Briggs
Lopop = Maruishi MTB polo bike
Squishy = Diamond Back MTB loaner/back-up polo/donor bike
Scot = Scott MTB/Xtracycle (this rig hasn't earned a name.)

Foundlings revamped and ridden regularly:
Redneck = Knect red fixie
Yorick = 20" Norco kids bike/art-bike chopper/quick tripper
Binny = Norco cruiser frame aero-chopper

Whit = Witcomb (all new semi-custom)

There are two bikes without names; a Raleigh I've never considered
"mine" and a Miyata I've not yet made "mine".

Most of our chopper collective has named their bikes.
"Count Chopula" was renamed "Calegula" at my expense.

It doesn't matter what you call a bike. . . . it's not going to come
anyway.

You have to ride it.
--
zk

The Historian wrote:
wrote:
Rex Kerr wrote:
Well, I did it... I bought the Trek 520 that I've been talking about at
Chain Reaction to replace my tired commuting bike... I'm excited, can't
wait to go for a ride... but when I got home and parked it next to my
old Nishiki I just felt this overwhelming sadness. I've had many good
miles on that bike, and now I'm just going to put it in storage!

Chronic crowding in my garage (five bikes [1] and one car) has just
about persuaded me that it's time to toss my veteran 1973 Astra 10-speed.
I've had that bike through thick and thin, ridden it in places from El
Paso to Edmonton, towed my first trailer with it, had all kinds of fun on
it.
But next time the city puts one of those big open-top dumpsters out in
my neighborhood, "Henry" [2] is going. What finally persuaded me that his
time had come was riding the other two bikes, and then getting aboard the
old warhorse and comparing condition, fit, and handling. I'll miss the
old steed, but the new bikes will ease the pain.


Bill


[1] Three mine, two my kids'.

[2] My bikes are named after American conservationists: Henry is named
for Thoreau, and commuter bike Waldo for Emerson. I had intended to name
my newest bike Leopold, after Aldo. (Aldo and Waldo being just a little
too close.) But this bike is so--zonal--with its silver paint and black
accessories, that I ended up naming him Ansel.

Do people often name their bikes? A friend of mine is restoring a 1978
Volkswagon Vanagon, which he has named "Brooke." And I call my car "The
Neilmobile", which is close to being a name, although it's more
properly a title. But I've never heard of naming your bike.

I have now. Aside from the posts to this thread, there's the case of
Frances Willard to consider. She named her bike Gladys:

"Gladys was no more a mystery: I had learned all her kinks, had put a
bridle in her teeth, and touched her smartly with the whip of victory."

http://historymatters.gmu.edu/d/5038/

Zoot Katz wrote:
On 24 Dec 2006 12:12:48 -0800, "The Historian"
responded:

[2] My bikes are named after American conservationists: Henry is named
for Thoreau, and commuter bike Waldo for Emerson. I had intended to name
my newest bike Leopold, after Aldo. (Aldo and Waldo being just a little
too close.) But this bike is so--zonal--with its silver paint and black
accessories, that I ended up naming him Ansel.

Do people often name their bikes? A friend of mine is restoring a 1978
Volkswagon Vanagon, which he has named "Brooke." And I call my car "The
Neilmobile", which is close to being a name, although it's more
properly a title. But I've never heard of naming your bike.

My motorcycles and cars had names too.
What they were more often called was something entirely different.

My bikes are all named. It's my shorthand instead of a description.

These bikes were built up from new/used parts:
joe-bike = 1985 Norco MTB city bike
Ellie = Ellis Briggs
Lopop = Maruishi MTB polo bike
Squishy = Diamond Back MTB loaner/back-up polo/donor bike
Scot = Scott MTB/Xtracycle (this rig hasn't earned a name.)

Foundlings revamped and ridden regularly:
Redneck = Knect red fixie
Yorick = 20" Norco kids bike/art-bike chopper/quick tripper
Binny = Norco cruiser frame aero-chopper

Whit = Witcomb (all new semi-custom)

There are two bikes without names; a Raleigh I've never considered
"mine" and a Miyata I've not yet made "mine".

Most of our chopper collective has named their bikes.
"Count Chopula" was renamed "Calegula" at my expense.

It doesn't matter what you call a bike. . . . it's not going to come
anyway.

You have to ride it.

Agreed. I decided to name my bike Excelsior, because I am fond of the
Longfellow poem by that name. The word is Latin for "ever upward". I
figure it will help with hills. I hope Excelsior and I avoid the fate
they suffer in the poem, however.

The shades of night were falling fast,
As through an Alpine village passed
A youth, who bore, 'mid snow and ice,
A banner with the strange device,
Excelsior!

His brow was sad; his eye beneath,
Flashed like a falchion from its sheath,
And like a silver clarion rung
The accents of that unknown tongue,
Excelsior!

In happy homes he saw the light
Of household fires gleam warm and bright;
Above, the spectral glaciers shone,
And from his lips escaped a groan,
Excelsior!

"Try not the Pass!" the old man said:
"Dark lowers the tempest overhead,
The roaring torrent is deep and wide!
And loud that clarion voice replied,
Excelsior!

"Oh stay," the maiden said, "and rest
Thy weary head upon this breast!"
A tear stood in his bright blue eye,
But still he answered, with a sigh,
Excelsior!

"Beware the pine-tree's withered branch!
Beware the awful avalanche!"
This was the peasant's last Good-night,
A voice replied, far up the height,
Excelsior!

At break of day, as heavenward
The pious monks of Saint Bernard
Uttered the oft-repeated prayer,
A voice cried through the startled air,
Excelsior!

A traveller, by the faithful hound,
Half-buried in the snow was found,
Still grasping in his hand of ice
That banner with the strange device,
Excelsior!

There in the twilight cold and gray,
Lifeless, but beautiful, he lay,
And from the sky, serene and far,
A voice fell, like a falling star,
Excelsior!