It’s a Novara…nothing amazing it’s a very basic bike. In fact it’s almost shocking it has mechanical disk brakes. It was covered in spider webs, dust and the tires where soft and under inflated. It has been five years at least since it was ridden last but was kept in the carport for most of that five years. The accompanying helmet was brown with dust and had a small gouge in the foam.
After a quick wipe down and cursory check of the bikes vitals it was time to revive this bike with a quick driveway test drive. Brakes- check, shifting- check, suspension- suspensioney, fit-wrong. It feels odd, 24 inch wheels, hardtail, 3 x 7 drivetrain. This bike is a stark difference from my 29er, full suspension, slack geometry, 1 x 11 drivetrain bike. It feels good but different. How could he have fit on this bike? He was taller than me and I’m 6’2”. It works, it doesn’t feel like I’m a circus clown like it does when I take my sons 24 Inch wheel bike for a spin after it’s occasional tune up.
What started as just a functional check to ebb my curiosity has turned into a desire to put this bike through its paces on the trails of my youth. I take my flannel shirt off and announce to my wife I’ll be gone for a bit. I request, as is good form when riding another persons bike, permission to ride a bike that isn’t mine and oddly it isn’t anybody else’s bike that is present. The bike is my brothers but he isn’t here. He hasn’t been here since 2014, over 5 years ago.
Bob was a brother I didn’t know as well as my other two brothers. He was born when I was 14. I changed his diapers, saw him walk and even remember when he got his first bike for Christmas and my parents allowed him to ride it in the house in the loop formed by the kitchen, dinning room and kitchen. I’m not sure my parents should have allowed it when I was his age but Bob was a special kid. He was a bit of a gift to our family that he came to us when he did. I think Bob kept my parents young and his presence around the holidays made the season more exciting late into my 20’s. Christmas is always more special when there are young children around.
Today, the day after Christmas it feels like Bob is watching me ride his old bike. The fact that it is in such good shape feels like permission to ride it. It feels almost like the excitement that I had as a child when I got my first mountain bike for Christmas. As I hit the trail behind my parents house that I rode often when my brother Bob was only a few years old brings me back to my late teenage years. I’m not sure if I can remember what forks in the trail to take or if the trail still exists.
I drop in and start my ride on the trails of my youth. They haven’t changed a bit. The mud pits are in the same place, the roots have not moved an inch. There are still trees that have fallen on the trail…likely not the same ones from my youth but they felt they where identical to the last time I rode them circa 1996. The one major difference is some skinny foot bridges that somebody has graciously constructed.
I think I was laughing audibly for the whole mile long trail. I would often ride the trail just to clear my mind of the angst that is a common affliction of children of that age. Sometimes that trail was a way to cool down my anger, contemplate the next step in my relationship with the latest girlfriend. It was a place to philosophize. It was a trail to put my bike through it’s paces in prep for the next bike adventure with my high school riding crew. The trail was a functional way to get to school or rally with friends when driving wasn’t a possibility.
Today was a bit different, it was another step in grieving the loss of my baby brother. Bob passed a way on Good Friday in 2013. He had epilepsy. He had a seizure his brain couldn’t handle. SUDEP. Sudden unexpected death in epilepsy. It kills 1 in 1,000 people who suffer from epilepsy. 600 people die from SUDEP worldwide per year, it isn’t common but it is a possibility for people with epilepsy. I didn’t know that my brother had this hidden time bomb in his body.
The last time I saw or talked to my brother was Christmas Day 2013. I was in the Air Force and on a deployment to to the Middle East and FaceTimed my family that day. It felt so distant to talk to my family that day, getting handed off one person at a time. It was a tough day of avoiding insurgent rocket attacks. Opening a few gifts that thoughtful family had sent long in advance to be sure they arrived on time. Dinner was “near beer” and turkey, it was good but I longed to be on the other side of that FaceTime conversation. Had I known this would be the last time I’d see my brother alive I might have been less concerned with my mortality and more with his. Hindsight…
Now 6 years later I am riding Bobs bike on the trails of my youth and laughing my head off. I feel his presence with me and his approval of my enjoyment of his bike. I’m feeling what it was like for him to ride these trails. I’m not sure he ever did ride them but I know how it would have felt for him on this bike. I would have adjusted the bike to fit me better but I didn’t want to disturb his setup, it felt like I would lose another piece of my brother. Today was the first time since his death that I didn’t mourn his absence from Christmas but rejoiced in his presence. It’s the power of cycling that brought me closer to my brother.
Airliftpilot Travelogue 