noel alanguilan

kikay 04
dumudungaw
(looking out the window)
bisikleta series

kikay 03
hub
bisikleta series

kikay 02
shimano close
bisikleta series

kikay 01
bisikleta series
2009

i could not ride as much as i wanted to. so until such time i am taking pictures.

its been almost 10 months since i got out of the hospital. i’ve followed the doctors instructions, sometimes to a fault. i do not smoke anymore. i’ve gone through physical and occupational therapies. i’ve religously continued my exercises on my own and i have felt the improvements flow and then creep in. i have tried riding the bike a couple of times within the shaded confines of the empty first floor of the house just to get the feel of the bike and how it feels to be on it again. the first floor has become my safety net where i can make mistakes and crash without hurting or embarrassing myself too much. i think and i feel that i can ride out there again beyond the walls of my safe zone. i think i’m ready.

a couple of days ago i took my bike out from storage to clean it. i made a few adjustments and lowered the seat a bit to make dismounting a little easier. early this morning i pumped up the tires. and then i got too lazy to get dressed. and i wasn’t able to ride. i hit my head onto a virtual blue plank of wood. stupid. idiot. stupid. what am i scared of? am i scared of crashing and making a fool of myself in front of strangers who doesn’t even know me from juan? am i afraid of the eventual scrapes and bruises i’ll get if i fall? or am i just paranoid that some universally stupid driver sent from hell will run me over? or that i will have an attack in the middle of a ride?

i know i’m not fully recovered and i may not get to be 100% the way i was before the strokes but that’s always something to strive for, as my girlfriend always says.

and now my bike — kikay — is just standing there at one corner of the dining room looking all shiny, sad and abandoned. sigh. this can’t happen. 20 years from now i know i’ll be banging my head on a real wooden plank, regretting not taking that risk and do that first real ride. i’m not really afraid of the scrapes and bruises (although the scrapes really sting) and i know i’m sensible enough to stay clear of any devil drivers. i don’t really care if i embarrass myself in front of total strangers in the unfortunate event that i fall from the bike. and i know my angel will be there to guide me.

so this weekend i will take a ride — barring unforseen acts of god.

its the holy week. people are out of the city. there’s very little traffic on the streets.

and she’s not here.

its tiring walking alone. bordering on boring. the pace gets unbearably slow.

because she’s not here.

it feels like i’m stranded. others pass me by. but i tread on.

even if she’s not here.

i look forward to the day when i see her again. soon.

kikay. my bike.

“why do you do this to yourself?”

she spoke in a voice of genuine concern and looked at me a bit worriedly. but she didn’t say anything else. i haven’t seen her for years.

i was in a middle of what was to be a long bike ride. i ran out of water along the way and i swung by her place to ask for some. i looked all sweaty and grimy and i was panting my lungs out. i looked pitiful.

my answer was a weak shrug of the shoulders in between gulps of water and gasps for air. after filling up my bottle and a short rest i offered my apologies, gave my thanks and went on my way.

that question was asked when kikay was still new which was about a decade or so ago. i never had the opportunity to answer it for me.

i do this to myself because i like to ride my bike. i like the way the wind rushes up to meet me and makes me work harder. sometimes i run with the wind and i go faster and i like that too. we play. i like the way riding makes me see the same old things in a new way and i like to see new places that the bike brings me to. i like the freedom riding offers me however short-lived it may be.

i like the way riding makes me comfortable with myself.

yeah. i named my bike “kikay”. its a filipino word for “female flirt” (or something like that). the picture above is her current incarnation.

list of measurements that would be good to know (for my reference):

frame:
top tube: 52 mm center to center
seat tube: 49 mm center to center
bottom bracket length: 68 mm
fork spacing: 100 mm
rear dropout spacing: 130 mm

the frame tubing is columbus. i forget what kind but i remember it having inner ribbings in the downtube and seat tubes. i was informed that it was custom built by rey ranada and ave maldea.

seat post: 26.6 mm (weird; today’s standard is 27.2)
stem: 26 mm (cinelli black anodized quill)
stem length: 110 mm center to center
handlebar: 42 cm (profile bullhorns)
crank length: 170 mm

i have another cinelli drop bar that ’s 42 cm in width. it says 56 – 42. i don’t know what the 56 is.

did i forget anything else?