Garlic Bread-Powered Stroke of Brilliance

I love this bike in more ways than I ever thought possible.

Well into my fourth week of Spring commuting, I'm gaining a toehold in biking fitness. Moreover, I'm relearning measures that when done consistently in the afternoon set me up well for the ride home: drink lots of fluids and restock on calories after 3 p.m. Despite still carrying a few extra pounds—I like to call it my winter weight—starving myself while trying to get into riding shape has never worked for me. Instead, maintaining consistent energy keeps the crankies at bay; extra weight slowly disappears, and thus with the body's necessities taken care of, my thoughts can wander at will, where clear thinking reigns.

If you're an avid bike rider or runner, you know what I mean.

If I could solve world peace or feed hungry nations with such profound moments, believe me, I would. However, I confess to no such strokes of brilliance. My free-thinking time hovers on contemplating family life, work, vacations, and of course everything regarding bicycles.

And so with garlic bread-induced energy (I saved a hunk from lunchtime to consume in the afternoon) I rode my Trek home. I stared at the handlebars, those slightly curved beautiful bars that came with this bicycle, never having succumbed to later straight bar mountain bike style. I've always loved the feel of this shape. And so it was that I realized what would work on the Ross Mount Saint Helens. To gain the extra handlebar height necessary for comfort without buying a new stem, I can shift the similar handlebar from the Peugeot (which doesn't work well on that bike anyway for other reasons) to the Ross. I don't understand why this solution never occurred to me before.

And though this revelation is not A Heartbreaking Work of Staggering Genius—it's perhaps far from it—it means I've found a solution to a problem, one that makes me giddy with relief.

What kinds of bicycle problems have you solved with two wheel-thinking?