Mi Casa: Cycling requires lots of space
I was spreading out my pathetic collection of cycling tools on my new workbench the other day when I got to thinking about how cycling requires a lot of space. Not just on the road. It demands a lot of space in your home. You can say this about all sports. But it’s especially true of cycling. That’s why I’m really going to love living in my own house.
For the past 12 years, I’ve been living in apartments in New York, Taipei, Hong Kong and Guangzhou. The last one in Guangzhou was a decent size for a family of four – as long as no one was obsessed with cycling. I had to park my two bikes in our small entry way, something my wife constantly grumped about. My repair space included half a shelf in our tiny pantry, where I had enough room to keep a small tool box and a plastic basin full of old bits- stems, seatbosts, pedals and a mangled cookies-and-cream Powerbar I got at the breakfast buffet at the Beijing Olympics. Mechanical work would be done outside on the deck’s cold cement.
For awhile, I handwashed my clothes in the sink, but my family forced me to stop. My daughters simply wouldn’t use the bathroom if there were a pair of bib knicks soaking in the sink. I would tell them to just spit in the toilet when they needed to brush their teeth, but the little princesses wouldn’t have any of that! So I bought a couple plastic basins and used them for washing. But they constantly needed to be moved when my flatmates needed to shower. In the warmer months, I could hang my kit to dry on the deck. But in the winter, our shower rods would be full of arm warmers, jackets, bibs, leg warmers and undergarments. When the ladies needed to shower, the clothes would end up on the floor.
My cycling addiction required extreme organization, juggling, diplomacy, apologies and promises to do a better job controlling the constant creep.
Now I have a house again. Things couldn’t be more different. In my half-finished basement, I have a long wooden workbench that has more space than I know what to do with. I can finally pursue my dream of collecting a real tool set with an actual repair stand. I’m extremely tempted to buy a mini fridge that would be stocked with micro brews that I could pop open when ever I needed to lube my brain to solve some kind of mechanical mystery. But the environmentalist inside me can’t justify the extra energy consumption.
There’s also plenty of room for a pain cave, where I’ll set up my rollers in front of a TV for those long indoor rides during the long Michigan winter. The finished side of my basement has a small enclosed office space, which I’m converting into a bike room. My wife has yet to discover this, and the project might have to be aborted. But so far, I’ve filled up the room’s small closet with my jerseys and other apparel. The basement also has a large washer, dryer and wet sink that will be perfect for handwashing my kit. There’s plenty of space in the garage to store the bikes, and during the winter, I imagine I’ll move them to the basement.
The only drawback to home ownership is that a house seemed to demand a lot of attention. The other day I was attacking my overgrown shrubs with extreme prejudice. The project was supposed to last two hours, and I was going to transition to a bike ride at 4 p.m. But when 4 rolled around, I was only half done, so I pushed the ride back to 5… I ended up hanging my clippers and handsaw at 6:30. The ride never happened. But it was a small price to pay for the space.
“My cycling addiction required extreme organization, juggling, diplomacy, apologies and promises to do a better job controlling the constant creep.”
A truer statement has not been uttered.