Bicycles in Beijing are like relationships. They offer companionship, but after a while they start to get really noisy, have lots of problems, and cost you a bunch of money.
My bicycle's name is Crummy 2 (aka: Crummy the Second, Crummy Jr, Crummy 2.0, Crummy the Revenge, Crummy the Reckoning, Crummy goes Miami, or simply Von Crummy). Crummy 1 was stolen back in October from the back entrance to the cafeteria at Yuyan daxue.
Please take special note of German inspired engineering (click for biggie):
| Crummy 2 just chillin|| Awesome deer basket|
| Chain guard oxidized to swiss cheese|| Plastic sack tied around seat for preemptive rain guard action|
| Lock attached to back I lost key for|| Brakes that don't|
| Tires that are fans of the slipping, but take a pass on the gripping|| Flying pigeon, fly like the wind pigeon!|
I love Crummy 2 because of her problems, not in spite of them. I used to think new bicycles were targets for thieves, and so that was my reasoning for sticking with the Crummy lineage. But I now understand that bike cleptos have no concept of "discrimination". Still, I stick with Crummy 2.
I have promised my friend Simon to take care of his crazy huge bicycle Potemkin (named for the Russian movie battleship of the same name) when he goes back to Germany. It will be my job to find a worthy successor for the beast. No small order. Who amongst us can see past that cold dark pig iron to see her inner beauty, a heart that yearns for the green pastures of shoddily tiled sidewalks and unevenly paved roads.
As her current owner put it: Make sure to ride her every once in a while. She likes to be ridden.