Nicolai: My Nishiki

[I plan on posting pictures taken with my phone at a soon but later time.]

A few months back I bought a used bike off of craigslist for, what I supposed, was a pretty barebones price. It is an extra large, (likely) early 1980's, blue Nishiki. I planned on learning something about bikes in the process of cleaning it up, customizing it, and fixing it. Following the immediate needs of a new tube and tire, and new chain, I took the opportunity to augment it with new toe-clip pedals, new handle bars and tape, lights (a must, really), a back-rack, and a much needed cassette cleaning. Most of this work was made possible with Mr. Tim Haynes's assistance, but I did most of it myself. The new chain did break once and, since I was away from home, was mended at Single Track bikeshop, and many of the pieces were purchased from Bike Revolutions and Absolute Bikes - the rack, an outlier, was purchased from Bike Hub.

In November, I believe, the stem of the bike (what attaches the handlebars to the headset and frame) began to wobble in a persistent and obvious way. I suspected some looseness in the headset, something requiring the tightening of a wrench and some grease, but it worsened and not until mid-December did I tend to it. The day I purchased a wide-mouthed wrench, thanks to birthday funds from my father, I refused to bike up the hill to deliver a finals paper in fear of catastrophic damage given the state of the stem. That evening, upon loosening the headset and pulling out the stem - an entirely novel experience for me - I discovered that the base of the stem had broken off. Had I attempted to bike up the hill, the journey may very well have released the stem entirely from the headset and sent me reeling. The bike was unusable until I could replace the stem. Unfortunately, doing so required the removal of the handle bars and tape I was so proud of installing on my own in the first place.

Before leaving for the holidays, I bought a new stem and cleaned out the headset pieces. Unfortunately, by this time, Tim had left for Lawrence and had taken his tools and grease with him. It wasn't until returning to Flagstaff a few weeks ago was I able to install the stem, reassemble the headset, rewrap the tape, and make the Nishiki serviceable again. I obtained new tools and bike grease to do so unsupervised. Though I was forced to undo steps two or three times to get the installation correct, I managed to do so on my own. (Assisted, again, by the ingenius multi-tool my father had gotten me for Christmas.) The next day I hesitantly rode the bike around town and, sensing no rambles or uncertainties in the reassembly, felt satisfied with my work. Tim even commented on the apparent soundness of the bike shortly after his return.

This endeavor had been a frustrating, insightful, and somewhat costly affair; all to a degree greater than I had expected. The process has also endeared me to the bike more than I feel I have ever been connected thereto. I feel that the bike has also become itself, recovered from misuse and disuse, by my hand and mentorship both digital and interpersonal. The Nishiki is also the most ideal fit to me of a bike I have owned. Though I still ride the Cannondale, occasionally referred to as Silver, and the Raleigh that stay in Lincoln, I can sense the imperfections of my frame as I ride them. With Nicolai, the name I feel the bike has given itself, I struggle with it, not because of it. Its gears still click from time to time and its friction shifters require tightening now and then to prevent unwanted gear change, but these are characteristics of the bike itself, quirks that one abides to maintain a relationship.

Back in December, before the damage revealed itself in full, from outside Mia's my compatriots and I discussed bicycles and bike theft with a passer-by. He commented that theft of an identifiable bike, one that is distinctly someone's bike, is foolhardy because, once a bike is clearly yours and not someone else's, you can identify it anywhere. I asked, then, how he felt about the Nishiki; to which he responded that it was an obvious bike, a clear and identifiable one. I took the comment to heart, especially after doing more work on it. A comment like that toward my bike, after so much work has been applied to it, reflects on me as well; just as a compliment to a close friend is complimentary to you as well. I am proud of recuperating and riding Nicolai, and I hope that Nicolai has similar, corollary sentiments.