After seven years, a new bike

It’s the end of an era. After seven years of riding my trusty and much-loved—yet increasingly decrepit—’01 Haro Revo, I now have a nifty ‘08 Haro F1 in Gloss Black (not the gaudy red pictured here).

It’s nice to have tires with tread, and brakes that actually slow me down, and a sprocket that doesn’t jam the chain, and a seat cushion whose insides stay, well, inside.

But I’m gonna miss my Revo. I remember riding that thing everywhere—to the beach, through the park, around the South Shore, and even to the after-school baseball games near Beaver Brook, in junior high school. It was ogled and derided by Middletown kids. It lost a handlebar grip to a chain-link fence at the Night Before the Fourth. It got me home in the freezing cold, in the searing heat, and in the driving rain. It took me to Regal with Rob Howlett (proof of how long I’ve been riding it) more times than I can remember. It made me late to school at least a dozen times throughout senior year. And it was responsible for a girlfriend falling and hitting her head on the sidewalk.

Oh, man. The memories. I’ll miss you, my Revo.