Summer’s Eve

Fit.

The square peg in the round hole.

Trying to force something to be what we want rather than allowing it to be itself. Forcing desire to equate with reality. Fighting what we know to be true, believing the battle to be easier than acceptance. Such has been the theme to my return to West Texas.

As often is the case, the bicycle provides me a metaphor for life.

A month before arriving here, Mike at Desert Sports ordered me a new bike. Yup, my first ever full suspension bike in more than 30years of riding off-road. It’s a 2020 Specialized Stumpjumper ST Comp Alloy. An aluminum 29’er with a 120mm Fox fork up front and 130mm Fox shock in the rear, dropper post, wide bars, 1×11 drivetrain. I upgraded the rear derailleur to an XT and the wheels to DTSwiss 350s hubs(yes, with the star ratchet upgrade) hand laced to Bontrager Duster rims and Minion DHF/DHR 2.3 tires. PIMP! So, where’s the struggle, you ask?

The colour.

When I ordered the bike, I did so based on the website’s information. The colour options were a bright blue or a pale off-white. Despite knowing that white bikes are the worst to keep clean, I chose the off-white version. When I opened the box, however, I discovered that off-white was really pale green, like the colour they paint the concrete walls at some institution like a high-school or hospital. While not a fan of the colour, I’m stuck with it now. Time to name this bike.

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This summer I read Christopher Moore’s A Dirty Job. In it, one of Death’s Merchants–Minty Fresh–is a 7′ tall black man with a penchant for wearing minty green suits. Perfect, I thought, I’ll name this new bike Minty Fresh. Well, my friends would have none of it. Rather, they all agreed that the colour was more akin to the packaging of some sort of feminine hygiene product. “Summer’s Eve” was born.

I tried to fight it. When asked, I would say the bike’s name was Minty Fresh, only to be shouted down by my friends. “Her name is Summer’s Eve,” they would yell and laugh and mock. I tried to fight it, but alas, the name even fulfills the trend of naming my non-titanium bikes with the letter ‘S’. Despite my efforts to pound that square peg into a round hole, Summer’s Eve she is.

There are other circumstances I’ve identified here where I’ve found myself trying to force a belief rather than accept truth. Relationships, obligations, changes in this community, even my upcoming Terlingua Burlesque routine. When considering grand plans for my future, I find myself acknowledging the battles I’ve been fighting versus the path I could simply walk along.

Summer’s Eve it is. So, too, shall I endeavour to accept that the round hole requires a round peg. And if I look closely enough, I find that peg, that truth, laying next to me, just waiting to be inserted in that round hole.

Summer’s Eve.