After years of waiting to introduce my son to the romance of pedaling the open road, the height line on the kitchen wall reached a point where I could maybe take him along on my Sunday morning four-hour odyssey. I’m not quite ready to let him loose on his own wheels among the escaladeous free-texting latte slurping denizens of our subrural byways, so some diligent craigslist trolling found a well-preserved 80s era Santana Tandem for less money than a year of swim team dues. What a finely-tuned sapphire of a machine!
Does the flawless blue metallic paint appeal to my rebellious nature as I know it will offend Andy Cruz’s sensibilities with his intense dislike and fanatical avoidance of anything with a cerulean tint?
Or is it the lettering that reminds me of my first job laying out newsletters in Pagemaker 1.0 on a Macintosh SE with two floppy drives while enjoying the volatile organic compound-induced euphoria of rubber cementing down headlines from the local type house so as to not limit my layouts to that era’s anemic digital offerings?
Or the deliciously decayed brown rubber from a cornucopia of component manufacturers, that, despite its cracks, still affords excellent padding and grip?
Or maybe its the comfort of knowing that if one of the 96 spokes blow out, there are two spares that have been ingeniously mounted to protect the rear chainstay.
Posted by Rich Roat on January 20, 2010