I’m a wrench.
Not literally, I wrench on bikes.
I’m blue collar, I don’t make a lot of money and there is little respect for what I do.
But I love what I do.
It’s days like today that are part of a reoccurring epiphany in my life. I have consistently taken less money so that I can have a job that I enjoy. It is my plan to be a starving journalist and wrench for the rest of my life. And that’s it. I do what I am and it makes me happy.
I came to work today knowing I would be the only one here. I got things going and grabbed a bike for service. And that’s when it hit me like a pedal wrench upside the head, that I love working on bikes. There is something magical about trueing a wheel, rebalancing the tension without thinking about it. To be able to complete a tune-up while taking phone calls, helping customers and eating lunch (yes, I consume a lot of grease), because I’ve done it so many times. It hit me.
I also love bikes. They are simple, efficient, perfect. In our fast changing world there are few things that exist that haven’t changed. The bicycle is one. Sure it has been refined, we use carbon now, but frankly it is the same safety bike that has been around for over a century. The concepts and principles are the same. It is a constant.
There exists this link between me and the bicycle whether it’s riding up mountain singletrack while the sun breaks through grey sky to backlit yellow leaves in 65 degrees or taking a bike and making it work with grease on my hands, I love every minute.
That’s life inspired.
That’s my revolution.
Falling backwards up the stairs.
17 hours ago