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Ramona's Ramblings

What? Now I have to pay for air?

Ramona Jan
Posted 5/9/23

Come spring bugs, birds and bikes emerge. I own workhorses from the ‘80’s. Solid steel; in many places rusted. I’ll call them ‘vintage bikes’ because it sounds better. …

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Ramona's Ramblings

What? Now I have to pay for air?

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Come spring bugs, birds and bikes emerge. I own workhorses from the ‘80’s. Solid steel; in many places rusted. I’ll call them ‘vintage bikes’ because it sounds better. Back then these bikes were considered light weight and, oh, so portable. Each probably weighs around 60 pounds. I dream of the day I own the latest aerodynamic aluminum framed wonder. Until then…

I walk the Huffy aptly named because I’m huffing and puffing up and down hills on my way to the nearest service station. It’s the place for the past twenty years that I’ve filled my bike tires for free. Can’t ride the bike there because the tires are completely flat. So I huffy and puffy over hill and dale to my favorite fill station, but oh! There’s a new air pump. It looks beautiful, but oh! It costs money.

I read the fine print: quarters only. OK. I reach into my pockets to see if I have one. Nope. Who carries cash on them anymore least of all coins? Well, I usually do, but not when I’m merely airing my tires. And then I read the rest of the fine print: one dollar in quarters. It takes one dollar in quarters, which means I will now have to pay a weekly dollar to ride my bike. It’s not the end of the world. Everyone has to make money and this newfangled air pump probably uses electricity. 

Lacking any change, I push the Huffy along the dusty trail to a friend’s house. He’s part actor, part sweet potato. I’ll call him SP. I heard he has a bike pump in his garage. I feel bad about showing up unannounced, but that’s what happens when you don’t own a cell phone like it’s the ‘70’s. I can’t reach him anyway even when I send an email. All my emails, he says, go to spam. No one checks spam. Not even me.

He vows to fill the tires of all three of my bikes. Yippee! I present the Huffy first as I’ve been carting it around for half a day and just want to get this over with. 

SP fires up the bike pump. It makes lots of noise just like an air compressor because it is an air compressor. 

SP pumps the tires. It takes half a second for each. And then he performs a tire check maneuver the likes of which I’ve never before seen. Gripping each tire with two hands, he sort of leans the bulk of his weight onto it and then pushes down with a kind of bouncing motion to see if there’s enough air. I ask if he knows what he’s doing and he says, no. But I’m so impressed by his professionalism, I suggest we open a bike shop. He agrees it would be a very good idea. We go over the particulars, what we know about bikes such as brakes, tires, gears, chains, and conclude there’s nothing much to it. Then we look closer…

Brakes. Uh, that would require restringing them. Right? Probably not the correct terminology, but words will come later. 

Tires, check! We’re good at filling tires, but only if they have the old school Schrader-type valve. One of my bikes has a Presta valve, and we have no idea what to do with that. And forget about the Woods-Dunlap valve. Never even saw one. Hopefully, never will. 

The gears look complicated. Too much sprocket-y stuff. We’ll just tell people we don’t do gears. They’re like transmissions. Go to a specialist for that.

Chains. We know they come on and off. Could be tricky, but we’ll figure it out. The important thing is we’ll both have forever free air. The bike business, after all, can’t be that hard to learn. 

RAMONA JAN is the Founder and Director of Yarnslingers, a storytelling group that tells tales both fantastic and true. She is also the roving historian for Callicoon, NY and is often seen giving tours around town. You can email her at callicoonwalkingtours@gmail.com.

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