Zen and the Art of Bicycle Repair

I've often fancied the idea of becoming a bicycle mechanic. My father is my role model. When we were young, he'd take us kids to the local RCMP bike auction, and buy one or two bikes that were in a sad state of disrepair. He'd take them home, combine all the good parts, and we'd have one nice bike. I loved going to those auctions, and will never forget the one time my dad bid 50 cents on a bike. It was the third bike he had bid on that that day, the first two had seen no counter-bids, so he got them both for fifty cents each. A few heads in the crowd started to turn around to see who this guy was. And so when my dad bid on the third bike, some smart alec counter-bid with one dollar. My dad let the bike go - so this guy got a bike he had no idea what to do with as it needed alot of work and was probably only useful for the one or two parts my dad needed to combine with the parts on the other two bikes.

The best bike my dad built for me was mostly orange, and pretty much a ten-speed. I biked everywhere - to work during university years, to Horseshoe Bay and back with my brother, on camping trips with my college friends on the Salt Spring Islands, to the library, or just to get away from it all. I used it right up until I left home. And the bike meant so much to me - I called it the 'Road Runner'. I wish I still had it. Lance Armstrong said - "A bicycle is the long-sought means of transportation for all of us who have runaway hearts'.

A couple of months ago, I started taking courses on bicylce maintenance and repair. The beginner course was basic - change the tires, adjust the brakes and gears, true the wheels etc. I worked on my own bike in the class and then went home to practice my new skills on Jill and Janet's bike. The gear adjustement did not go well, as, unknown to myself, the derailleur apparatus was bent. After a little while, I found that I had broken the cable. Next week, I sheepishly brought Janet's bike in to my teacher. "Great course Scott! I worked on Janet's bike: do you think you could possibly fix it now??" Instead, he signed me up for the next Intermediate course, and I learned how to fix the derailleur, and whole pile of other stuff. So next, I'll work on Jill's bike.

The interesting thing about Scott - besides the fact that he is a master of his Art - is his training, or more precisely, his lack of formal training. I had wandered into his shop a few months previous as it was accross the road from where Janet was taking volleyball training. I had an hour to kill. At first I observed Scott at work in the bike shop - an unasuming guy a little younger than me and in charge of about five fellows who looked to be what you would call 'pedal-heads', in their mid twenties or so. As I watched him quietly and patiently imparting knowledge and advice to his charges as they worked on the bikes, I got to envying his station in life. And I decided then and there that he needed to be my mentor. So I approached him and inquired. I quess you could say we make a rather odd looking teacher/mentor and student pair. Scott is not very well educated in that he has no certifcates or diploma's - not even for high school. "How do get to be a bike mechanic?", was my first question to him. "Do you have to go to those schools in Oregan or Colorado?". "I suppose they might be useful", he responded. "But how did you get to where you are today?" I asked. "It's just what I've done all my life", he said. And then he offered to enroll me in some of his courses. Scott is a short, somewhat dumpy fellow, with an unruley mass of sandy-blonde curles spilling over the top of his head. His hands are chewed up and red. His knowledge is profound, yet he imparts it to his students in words not exceding two syllables. His newest student- myself- is an over-educated, cerebral, chatty, gray-haired lady, taller and more athletic, and very naive when it comes to the workings of the bicycle.

Claire Finnamore
Student Member, Silent River Kung Fu