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| Blog, Mountain Biking Uk | 13/04/2012 07:59am

Ric sifts through the gold-giving detritus of bikes past.

My neighbour ‘puts down‘ his own compost. Every now and again I see him wander out his back door resplendent in dressing gown and Next slippers, used tea-bag and a half a leek clutched bravely in hand, heading towards his green plastic bin. Open her up, throw it in and wait. How long for, I don’t entirely know, but the end product is an alchemic transformation from crap to nitrogen-rich, well, crap…

Now, as much as I admire his climbing bush things (I really should insert a Latin name here to illustrate that I know the Latin for stuff but I don’t so scratch that) but I don’t compost myself. I was thinking about this the other day and realised that I do, sort of, in a way, ‘bike compost’. My shed, like a lot of sheds, has a crap receptacle. I hate throwing bike stuff out – nuts, bolts whatever, I can’t stand to bin seemingly useless little bits of metal.

Into the tray they go then and every now and again it will come to my rescue. Spare shoe cleats, oddly-sized headset spacers, headset bolts, stem bolts, rotor bolts… They’re all in there. It doesn’t take much for me to simply chuck these little nuggets of time-saving gold in there but every now and again I get to scatter them on to a bike late at night which needs to be ready by the morning and they fill holes, plug gaps, hold things together and generally come to my rescue.

This really has turned into an ode to crap, hasn’t it?! ‘Bike composting’ is far too twattish a term for me to try and endorse too. Instead, lets just salute our jars/treys/boxes of crap. They’re a lot more valuable than the sum of their bits…



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