I’ve said before elsewhere that sometimes a photograph is more meaningful to you because of sentimental reasons rather than aesthetic qualities, or the creativity in its composition though as a photographer I’m conscious of making photographs and not just snapshots.
Last weekend after sitting long hours behind my PC surfing, I needed a fix so I retrieved my camera from my backpack and stepped outside and found myself in the store-room looking for anything visually interesting thereby making mental photographs before I turned the cam on.
I spotted my old bicycle in the corner of the store room and got closer to it. I stood there a while before taking segmented shots of it.
|The rear tire of my over turned bicycle in retirement|
A couple of years ago, my fix was to get on that machine and ride in any direction on a whim. I’d crank the gears up to its highest and pick up the pace till my heart raced and I was drenched in sweat and fatigue settled in my calf accentuated by the rock hard feeling in my buttocks and thighs so that when I finally got off that machine my steps became wobbly.
|The combination lock I've had since my first bicycle. I'm able to change the combination as and when I want; unfortunately I've forgotten the last combination I set on it and the numbers too have been scraped off.|
I had ‘high’ times on my bicycle like no other. There were times that I’d cut the breaks and speed down a slope across crossroads gambling the possibility of a passing vehicle whilst the wind rushed in my face and deafened me. The rush I felt is indescribable and almost orgasmic.
I remember a time I gathered guts to ramp off a heap of stones and over a wall of a friends place against his warning. I gunned my bicycle from a distance and caught major air; mid air, you feel a bliss and calm and the world slows down momentarily and your thoughts seem to gain stainless clarity – It’s surreal! I balanced the bike barely over the 4 foot-plus wall and landed. My bicycle shocks seemed to recoil totally and sprung me off the bike after landing. I sustained a cut in my palm with little regret. Those were the days.
|My seat/rear adjustable shocks that launched me off the bike a couple of times and cushioned some of my daring air.|
I showed off doing wheelies, bunny hops, jumping ramps, riding up and down stairs and the fulfillment came more from being able to pull it off than the praise of people.
|One of the last things I spent money on before ditching the bike was to change the tires as the threads of the old tire wore off|
These day’s my endurance is short, my fitness is poor and my reflexes are slow. Discovering my bike in the store room makes me think I have to get another one as the one gathering dust in the store room is damaged possibly beyond repair.