Mike

My mechanic, Mike, rocks my world! Today was the “pack and ship” date I had set for sending the bikes to Seattle, and so I went to the bike shop this morning with what turned out to be 116 pounds of TREK bikes and hard cases and together, Mike and I broke it all down and loaded it up. I was more or less freaking out from the various stresses of this trip, and spending an hour with Mike was like spending an hour with a ZEN master. I’ve gotten to know him a little bit over the past few years, and I know him to be an extremely thoughtful man. When we were first contemplating this trip, it seemed like our Specialized bikes would work out for long distance touring, but after taking them out on the road last summer we realized that we needed bikes that were better suited for the load. I researched some of the choices, and ultimately decided that the 520 would be the best bike for me. I talked to Mike in March about getting one, and about the way I wanted to trick it out---he listened carefully to what I wanted, and nodded. At first, he hit a roadblock finding my size, but he knows somebody at TREK, and the next thing I knew, my bike was in the shop getting fenders and racks. In addition to being thoughtful, Mike is a man of few words, so I was extremely gratified when he asked me whether I wanted silver or black fenders---I thought about it for a half second and knew instinctively that I wanted silver. He smiled, gave me his blessing: “cool” and admitted that silver would be his choice, too. He never told me what I should get, he just asked the right questions along the way. For example, this morning as we were loading the bikes, he asked me if I had all the tools I needed---and I started listing what I was planning to carry. My bike tool, a little adjustable wrench, my pump, and patches, spare tube, tire boot, levers….I think my heart started racing when I was listing the things but he said, “cool” and assured me that my tires were bomb and I wouldn’t have any troubles. I also told him I’d have some lube, zip ties and of course, DUCT TAPE and he told me his duct tape mantra which is beautiful, but profane or I would repeat it here. When Mike says, “no worries”, it has the soothing effect of totally wiping all the worries out of my troubled mind. I’m saving the image of him in the shop, telling me “no worries” for the day I need it. Mike has always acted like the idea that I can ride my bike across two countries is perfectly reasonable, and I am so grateful for that. It’s also way cool that in a town of more than 60,000 people, I can still call the shop, ask “Is Mike there?” and hear “Hey, Laurel” before ever saying my name. I might be the only one in town who can make “Mike” a two-syllable name, though. Mike is a RED BULL athlete, and this summer he’ll be in Durango anchoring a four person relay team made up of a paraglider, kayaker, trail runner and mountain biker. They’ll be tackling some extreme mountain terrain and criss crossing the Continental Divide! Keep a good thought for my favorite mechanic---a thoughtful guy with a halo shadow of red hair and heart of gold.