I’m a terrible hoarder. Not yet at the level where you have to work through a maze of magazines and books to reach my desk, but I’m on the way.
It’s odd that I like this hoarding thing, though, as I’m a fan of minimalist design, especially in architecture. Minimalist design with hidden cupboards would no doubt be a happy balance, so I can hoard in secret, spilling my secret hoardes out only when alone…
Occasionally, my hoardes reap rewards. Take my new Control Tech handlebars, for instance. My trusted Ergon grips fit them, but the accompanying end caps don’t. A rummage here, and a rummage there, exposed some smaller old Hope end caps from a previous set of handlebars that fitted perfectly. Job done.
This may seem a simple solution, but I’m not normally so clever when it comes to problem solving in regards to my bike. It’s odd really, as in a former life, I used to train totally blind people to traverse London independently in rush hour, yet set me a bicycle maintenance task and I fall apart.
So, how did this newly formed bicycle problem solving side appear? It’s no doubt come from spending a happy day watching ex-archaeologist Guy Kesteven spot, piece together and fix all the necessary bits for my new ride from overflowing boxes and shelves of looky-likey randomly placed components (to the untrained eye).
The moral of the story is twofold:
1. Never throw anything away, as you never know when you might need it.
2. Spend some time watching a master and it may rub off on you.