Thursday, April 30, 2009

the story of the cyclometer

I can finally tell this story, because I'm now fully on my way to a happy ending.
so, here we go . . .

once upon a time there was a fancy Blackburn cyclometer that lived in a spiffy red and black box. once it had been fully formed and packaged, it was shipped to a warehouse where it sat in its pretty box on a shelf for weeks and weeks, until one day a young man came along and plucked it from its resting spot.
it was wrapped and nestled gently in a corrugated shipping box, and sent to an address far, far away, in that strange and wonderful land called utah.
when it arrived, the pretty box was taken from its nest and admired, then wrapped up as a Christmas gift. a mother had purchased it: it was a gift of great love to her daughter who loved riding her bike.
the fancy cyclometer waited patiently for the big day of celebration, when it was unwrapped, admired, and set aside. the gifter was greatly thanked by the giftee, but the cyclometer still sat in its pretty box, all alone.
then the pretty box moved from one location to another over the next few weeks, its seal unbroken. its owner would occasionally pick up the box, read some of the words printed on it, and then replace the box on the counter.
the cyclometer in its pretty box became sad. would it ever be allowed to work? to do what it was meant to do? to fulfill its destiny? it remained faithful, believing that yes, one day it would be released and it would find its glory.
days passed, snow fell, and more days passed.
then came the day when the box was moved, picked up, and actually opened: the cyclometer was free! someone actually released it from its snug hold, took all the other pieces out of the box, and started pressing buttons. oh, that felt so good!
next thing the cyclometer knew, it was perched in a little holder way up high, on the handlebar of a shiny, beautiful bicycle. it reigned! what a thrill! it's destiny was being fulfilled! soon it would flash numbers across its face, it would track miles and feet of elevation and heart rates and minutes . . . it would show the world everything it was capable of being!
the little cyclometer's heart almost burst with pride and joy, and the excitement of being asked to perform the functions it was designed to perform. because it knew there is nothing better on earth than being given the opportunity to do what you do best.

ah, but as in every story, darkness came to the little cyclometer's life.
its owner could not get the cyclometer to communicate with its sensors.
the little cyclometer tried and tried, but it couldn't access the information. it fell into sleep mode.
where it slept, and slept.
its owner would occasionally try to waken it, but within minutes it returned to sleep mode, as there was just no information available to keep it awake.
the cyclometer occasionally heard a voice suggesting that the owner take it back and get a different kind of bike computer; each time the little cyclometer decided it was just a bad dream, and would return to sleep mode.

the little cyclometer slept on and on, until one bright and shining spring day its owner took her bike to jared, the wonder bike-shop boy.
please help me, the owner said. my cyclometer wants to work, I know, but I just can't seem to help it. please, can you help?

jared pushed the cyclometer's buttons, then moved the sensors, then adjusted the magnets. he spun the bike's wheels, then moved the magnets a little more. all of a sudden, the cyclometer sprang to life!
numbers flashed across its screen!
miles per hour!
cadence!
minutes and hours!
all danced with excitement across the cyclometer's eager face!
alleluia!

that afternoon the owner climbed on her bike and pushed the link button and the numbers came back to life as the happy little cyclometer did its job.

oh, happy day.

and the cyclometer and its owner lived happily ever after.

well, almost.

there's always more to the story, isn't there?

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