Forget the internet. Forget the idea that overstressed supply chains will eventually refill local bicycle shop inventories.
Instead, consider the possibility that bicycling immortality lies within your grasp—the kind of immortality that comes with getting your hands on something truly rare.
Like the last 700×32 Specialized All Condition Armadillo Elite tire in the greater Peoria area.
That’s right: the One Tire made by Lord Sauron to rule all the others.
You can’t have it, of course. It’s mine, all mine.
But maybe that’s a bit brutal of me, to focus on my good fortune to the exclusion of your desire.
Maybe presumptuous as well: to imagine your personal consumerist fantasy revolves around the same rugged folding tire I just installed on the back of my tandem.
I’m sure there’s another bicycle part sitting on a shelf just waiting for you to snap it up.
Think of it, whatever it is: the last part of its kind.
The only part of its kind.
And the only thing that stands between you and your precious is a trivial amount of utterly filthy dirty cash.
Money that you would be better off without.
Money that, let’s face it, would otherwise go to pay bills—for stuff you already have—or to put away for retirement, which is so far off in the future it may qualify as an infatuation with a fictional monetary concept.
The same kind of money that Jeff Bezos uses to tip his comb steward.
Money that may not actually exist.
Oh, who am I fooling? You’ve got a credit card—charge it!
And do it before someone else buys that 1X 11-speed Shimano GRX RX810 rear derailleur.
Just kidding. That particular item doesn’t exist.
Unless you’ve heard something…
April 7. 16.5 miles.