What began as a 'nice little collection', somehow along the way became a hoarde.
What started out as a bit of enjoyable escapism started to get out of hand, storage became a problem, keeping up with the projects became impossible.
Over in classifieds I have started - tentatively - to let go. I have already said goodbye to a really nice Carrera, and an equally nice dave Yates. A SOMEC frame is boxed, waiting to be despatched, and tomorrow a Gillott will start the long journey from South East London to Scotland.
I wouldn't exactly say the process has been cathartic thus far, but it's not been as difficult as I thought.
In order to help me decide how deep to go, I thought it might help to make a list of those frames that I am not, at this stage, willing to part with. I think there's some Doris on TV who uses this approach to help people tidy their homes. My home is relatively tidy - Mrs Jangle won't have it any other way - but my bike store is a hell of a mess.
First up, without question is this:
Back in early 2007, I walked into my local bike shop, and asked the legend that is Barrie Witcomb if he could make me a bike.
Turns out he could.
The fact that he couldn't make it on time, or to the budget he initially outlined really didn't matter once it was built. For the first week or two it sat in the front room, gingerly balanced against the fireplace, and I just kept nipping in to look at it.
What began as a 'nice little collection', somehow along the way became a hoarde.
What started out as a bit of enjoyable escapism started to get out of hand, storage became a problem, keeping up with the projects became impossible.
Over in classifieds I have started - tentatively - to let go. I have already said goodbye to a really nice Carrera, and an equally nice dave Yates. A SOMEC frame is boxed, waiting to be despatched, and tomorrow a Gillott will start the long journey from South East London to Scotland.
I wouldn't exactly say the process has been cathartic thus far, but it's not been as difficult as I thought.
In order to help me decide how deep to go, I thought it might help to make a list of those frames that I am not, at this stage, willing to part with. I think there's some Doris on TV who uses this approach to help people tidy their homes. My home is relatively tidy - Mrs Jangle won't have it any other way - but my bike store is a hell of a mess.
First up, without question is this:
Back in early 2007, I walked into my local bike shop, and asked the legend that is Barrie Witcomb if he could make me a bike.
Turns out he could.
The fact that he couldn't make it on time, or to the budget he initially outlined really didn't matter once it was built. For the first week or two it sat in the front room, gingerly balanced against the fireplace, and I just kept nipping in to look at it.
This is the bike that started all the trouble.