Meet my ride

Matt here. Down below, Tyson introduced you to his ride. So I thought I would introduce you to mine—it’s far more interesting. Meet my kind-of-1993 Univega Alpina Uno. The frame, handlebars, front derailleur and bar ends are the only 1993 left of the original bike that I purchased from Peregrine Cycles in Midvale, UT. For your viewing convenience, I have marked everything not part of the original bike with virtual red dot stickers.

1993 Univega Alpina Uno

I will describe to you the transformation of what my bike was then to what it is now, in chronological order.

The seat tube was the first to go. A few weeks after I got my new bike at age 13, I was screaming down the second biggest hill in my neighborhood and apparently was not paying the amount of attention the road really demanded and I hit a rock large enough to cause me to endo. I was a little scraped up, but upon inspecting my new, untarnished bike, I found that the saddle had broken off from the seat post. This was a big disappointment, as I had just spent a significant amount of savings on my bike (the bike had cost about $400). You can imagine how thrilled I was when I took it in to the shop and found out there was a recall on that seat post. I got a new one for free!

Not much changed from that point until 2007 except for the usual: tires, brake pads, tubes. But in 2007 I showed it to a coworker and friend of mine, Seth, who reassured me that the bike was good enough, but it needed a little work. This summer as I started regularly commuting to work, I had a couple of major problems. First, after lubing my chain, my crank started slipping due to chain stretch, wear on the chain. Furthermore, I broke my rear shifter. I know people commute on fixies, but I wasn’t enjoying being stuck in my highest gear. Seth helped me on my first major bike repairs (and when I say helped, he mostly did it while I watched). He helped me replace my rear cogs and chain, as well as trading out my rear derailleur for the one pictured here. He also helped me find a new rear shifter, and supplied me with a spare brake lever he had laying around. At that point, I was also interested in a little more performance, so I traded out the old plastic pedals for some Crank Brothers Smarty pedals and purchased cleats.

That got me through the next year or so. The spring after beginning school in Chicago, I began commuting on my trusty bike. Things were going splendidly until I started slipping through my chain again. The crank had worn with the chain I had just replaced and was not meeting the new chain as it should. So, this time with the help of my brother in law, Collin, I purchased a new crank, pictured here, a new chain and a new rear sprocket, just in case there was any wear. I wanted a new start.

The fenders were also new additions to accommodate my city commuting. While fenders would have never flown with my teenage self, I find now that i really don’t mind the somewhat dorky look. It’s better than wet socks and skunk stripes.

The front tire was really my most traumatic replacement. I had ridden in to school on a nice summer day and had locked my bike in front of my school. I noticed it there before going to lunch, but on return, I noticed it was a little different than before. It was missing a front wheel. The front wheel had somehow walked off in broad daylight on a busy down-town street in Chicago. I felt violated. And I felt pretty sheepish dragging my bike home on the ‘L’ with only a back wheel. A new wheel was acquired from Working Bikes—the most awesome graveyard of bicycles I have ever seen—for only 15 bucks.

The last acquisitions were made for this ride. I bought a new back wheel because the brakes had worn grooves into the sidewall of the wheel. While there was relatively little chance of the walls bursting on the ride, I would rather take no chances. Last of all, I just got a new saddle. As it turns out, I have been riding on a women’s saddle all this time. I think my friends tried to clue me in earlier, but it just didn’t matter—until now, when I consider the chaffing I would have surely suffered.

So this is my ride. Call it a beast, call it a steed, it doesn’t really matter. Because he’s a good old friend of mine.