The Ash Maiden and Other Stories

For those of you who don't know, the Ash Maiden is my bicycle. The story of the Ash Maiden is a cherished one, and I will share it with you now.


During the summer after senior year in my preparations for moving to Davis I asked my dad about acquiring a bike. He related to me how his friend and his wife had resolved to exercise more and so purchased bicycles. Years later it occurred to them they would likely die of old age before touching those two bikes and so they asked around to see if any of their friends would take the ill-fated machines off their hands. My father, not being one to pass on an opportunity to enlarge his already-terrifying pile of unused possessions, gladly took them and left them out in the elements for two and a half years. Thus, I was faced with two sad looking bikes, covered in rust and grime. The first, least rusty one was decked out with mirrors, all-terrain tires, and all manner of useless contraptions. The second was a criminally shabby but functionally intact road bike of subtle, elegant lines. I don't need to tell you it was love at first sight. I used a wire brush to scrub most of the rust away, washed away the dust and applied WD-40 to every nook the beleaguered road bike had to offer. She was a grey 1980's Panasonic with upright handlebars, cracked whitewalls and a bike rack. I named her after a Grimm fairy tale, the Grimms then being a recent discovery of mine.


A few months ago I changed out the upright handlebars for the sleek, aggressive ones you now see. They're called bullhorns, and my dad was very concerned that I'd gore someone with them. Howard and I made them from a racing handlebar with a hacksaw. Hacksaw ftw.


Around the same time I completed my long-time goal of fitting the Maiden with more reflectors than God. You can see a bunch in the back, but at one point I had roughly twice as many (in the spokes, off the front and attached to my bike rack). When I replaced the rear wheel those douchebags at B&L didn't give me my reflectors back.

A new chapter in the life of the Maiden was written today when the last of her original whitewalls blew out, scaring small girls for miles around. I purchased a matching solid black tire on my way home today (yellowed whitewalls were never to my taste).