Miss Mercian II arrived today. I haven't had a chance to unpack her, as I've just gotten home from work. And I'm not about to start assembling a bike while I'm in the skirt and blouse I'm wearing!
But, as you can imagine, I'm looking forward to it. I opened the flap of the box and pulled away enough of the bubble wrap to see how elegant the frame is with its dark green paint and gold pinstriping and lettering. I really think the brown grips, leather saddle and mudflap will complement it nicely.
Poor Marianela is giving up those parts. Is a lady who sacrifices for another lady even more noble than the man who does the same?
What kind of a rhetorical question did I just ask? Hey, this is a bike blog! I never promised not to be self-indulgent.
The amazing thing is that Pete just dispatched the bike yesterday--in England. In Suffolk, as a matter of fact. Things take longer to get from Suffolk County, Long Island to my place than it took for the bike to come to me. There is an ocean between me and Pete; there is only Nassau County between the New York City borough of Queens, where I live, and Suffolk County. Then again, a plane or ship making the trip from Albion to America is less likely to get stuck in traffic than a truck on the Long Island Expressway (a.k.a. The World's Longest Parking Lot).
In our exchanges of e-mails, Pete told me about the Diss Cycling Club, which is based in his area. Its president owns the local shop, which has the earliest recorded Mercian sale. In the shop, he also has a photo of himself sharing the podium with Beryl Burton, whom I mentioned in a previous post.
I intend to read more about the club, and about British cycling clubs generally, as they seem to have an interesting history and culture.
And now I'm up to my fourth Mercian. That, in itself, is going to be interesting when I write my post(s) about all the bicycles I have owned--or all the ones I can remember, anyway!