My road bike may be starting to resent me

We all know fine well that bicycles are nothing more than bits of steel/titanium/carbon meshed together with rubber, wires and other bits and pieces added on to make them what they are. Whatever some fanatics might believe, they don't think, they don't talk, they aren't alive and they don't have feelings. We ride bikes, not horses (though they don't talk either).

But do you ever wonder what your bike might have to say for itself if it could talk? "Clean me more" may be one of the most common words out of the... mouth?... of a bike should it have a mouth.

I was wondering this the other day regarding my road bike. It's turning six years old this coming August and it's had plenty of miles and plenty of good roads on two different continents, but I wonder how pissed off it got, or might have got, when I went out late last summer and purchased a brand new mountain bike?

The road bike when we moved into our new home in early 2009 enjoyed pride of place in the living room while we got ourselves sorted. Much to comfortable an environment for a bike that already had 3,000 plus miles under its wheels, it was soon moved to the storage cage at the bottom of the building ... but a private storage cage I might add. There it lived for the next couple of years leaving only to be ridden.

The mountainbike also got its short spell in the corner of the home when it was first bought -- clean and new it took my wife a little longer than with the road bike to demand its immediate transfer to the cage.

These cages aren't that big so with all the other bits and pieces we have tucked away down there it was tight to fit two bikes in, but try I must and in my best real life version of a house of cards, I twisted and turned them, lowered the saddle on one, propped one up against the other and eventually got them to remain still long enough to get the cage door closed. And there they lived in harmony throughout the cold, but mild for Southern Ontario standards, winter of 2011/12.

When it came time to cycle once more it started to become too much of a pain to move the bikes delicately in and out of the cage -- now like a game of Jenga -- without the entire thing collapsing around me. I'll admit I came close a few times but always got away with it. I would take the mountain bike out more often than the road bike returning it washed, dried, oiled and clean to sit with the road bike once more. Did the road bike resent this clean bike returning time and again from its more frequent turns on the roads and dirt trails? If it could, it probably did.

I'm somewhat ashamed to say my road bike hasn't felt the touch of water that wasn't rain since I landed in Canada in August 2008 though I will say the chain is oiled regularly and it does get an annual service by the local bike shop where I don't hesitate to pay for the required replacement parts to keep in running well. With that in mind it is worth noting that in the five and a half years it's been serving me, my road bike has had but three or four flats, one new wheel on the back, one new crank, and one new chain. The thing has been as reliable as any bike there is and I take pride in thinking that my smooth riding has had a say in the lack of mechanical incidents over those six years. Or so I tell myself.

My building also has bike storage rooms, but I had never considered it before. The reason being that it wasn't until late last season that I got the mountain bike and even then it lived in my home until the winter arrived. One bike fitted in the cage nicely and it wasn't until mid-late March that I finally had to start negotiating them in and around one another. With a summer ahead in which I plan to do a lot of cycling, I had to now consider the bike storage room.

So I went for a look and discovered a large room with a dozen or so tangled bits of steel disguised as bikes, locked to a long block of wood that ran along the floor. Could I really make this my bikes new home? Would it be safe in here ... I mean sure I could lock it to the wood but it wouldn't take much to break that lock. Would anyone tamper with it? I added up the likelihood of both, accepted that my bike would be by far the most superior bike in the room, and decided it would be safe enough.

Choosing which bike moved out of the safe confines of the cage and into a shared cell with the most broken down bikes in society didn't take any hesitation. It was the road bike. It had to go and it went without a whisper of complaint.

Which brings me back to what it might have to say about me if it could. From the loan bike stored at one stage in my living room; to spacious storage in the cage; to being pressed against a much newer, much slicker, far cleaner mountain bike; to being moved into the bike room. I doubt it would be impressed. Jealous? Without a doubt. Angry? Absolutely. Out for revenge? Perhaps.

On my ride on Tuesday the dam gears were jumping everywhere anytime I put some pressure on the pedals. Faced with a steep section or a part I wanted to push, the gears would grind, drop down, and if I wan't preparing myself for it, I could well have been thrown off. Was this just age on the chain set or was this something sinister? I'm going with the later if only because the bike has been so kind to me for so many years.

With all that in mind and my own safety at a paramount, I'm going to give the bike a top to bottom cleaning this weekend, get it in for it's annual service, and maybe give it a night in the cage, though ultimately it's going to have to get used to living away from the high class of the mountain bike and in the bike room with the lowlifes. I won't compromise on that and my wife certainly won't compromise on it moving into the living room again.