In 1978 Tom’s Dad had a bike accident that wrecked his bike.
At the time I lived in Geraldine, Tom was three and it was a whole 22 years before we would met. However, the result of the accident was that Ross’s workmate gave him an old bike from their shed, which he’s ridden round ever since.
Last weekend the bike came to our house – it’s my inheritance from Ross and I plan to ride it around the streets of Featherston. The fancy black seat came from the dump shop in Wellington on a shopping outing that Ross and I took. And this week I bought some new, black handle grips thereby tripling the value of the bike (according to Tom).
I’m looking forward to putting things in the saddlebag and riding home with treasure.