Sometime this summer—I don’t know the exact date, so it may or may not have happened yet—my trusty red Rincon Giant turned 20 years old. More accurately, the *frame* turned 20, since every other part on this bike has been replaced at least once, and most of its parts have been replaced multiple times (thank you Open Air Bicycles).
There’s a good chance I’ve spent almost as much money on this thing as on my ’02 Jetta, which I also acquired in 2005 but haven’t driven regularly after killing my commute in spring 2017. Since I bought the bike, from a shop that no longer exists, I’ve ridden about 18,700 miles, mostly in Ventura County but also in six other counties up and down California.
That mileage number is probably higher, but I can’t be sure, because I only really began tracking it circa 2008 when I got compensated for biking to work, and only tracked it with a GPS app when I began serious biking for exercise in 2013—a New Year’s resolution that stuck.
From 2013-2025 I’ve lost about 35 pounds only to gain like half of it back, and also suffered two wipeouts and an (unrelated) upper-arm blood clot at age 40. So while I’d like to think I’m doing this for my health, it might be kind of a wash at this point. I do know that if I go too long without biking, I get moody and irritable, but I’m still amazed how quickly that evaporates with just a little sweat and sunshine.
So while I’m not in peak form these days at age 48—and definitely not at my hallowed “38 miles per burrito” standard—I still feel very lucky that I get to do this whenever I want or need to. 2025 isn’t over yet, so there’s still plenty of time to try and make my recent mileage valley into another peak. We shall see.
