N+1 is the mythical state for any serious cyclist's stable of rides. N is the number of bikes you currently own and there is always room for one more. I am addicted with the idea of adding a steel framed bike to my small stable of rides and this is giving me some interesting challenges.
Ying: The Desire for the New
I'm not really sure what it is about new bikes and components that ticks a box for so many people. I am constantly on eBay, Facebook, Gumtree, Wiggle and any other source of tempting delights I can find. My plans have moved from new wheels through to a full 11 speed upgrade and even onto multiple new bikes.
At the moment I have my eye on a really nice steel framed Genesis Equilibrium, which means the 11 speed upgrade plan might get shelved. If that goes out of the window I might revive the cyclocross plan, revert to a 10 speed plan or just stick with what I've got (oh who am I kidding, I'm never going to stick with what I've got).
I think the magic of the bike upgrade is two-fold. Firstly, it is really easy to get hooked. From a simple gateway drug like new tyres it is easy to quickly move on to harder upgrades like wheels or chainsets. Before you know it you are begging your dealer for one more custom frame. The upgrades start cheap and are easy to justify, "these tyres won't puncture so easily" or "I need 32 teeth to get up Hardknott". But then they become more ephemeral and more expensive, "surely a stiffer chainset will look a bit nicer and shift a bit cleaner".
Secondly, there is the promise of more performance. If only I could spend more money on my wheels I would get faster, go further and be more attractive to the opposite sex. This is part of my desire for a steel frame, to increase the long distance comfort of my bike and upgrade to more gears. The fact it will look beautiful is also a consideration. I've turned down several frames as they were not a nice colour. What have I become!
Yang: Irrational Attachment to the Old
Trying to work out how to fund my new ride has also opened the door to the other driver of N+1. I have never really liked the paint scheme on my Genesis Aether. The 9-speed setup has too many large gaps in the gear range, the Sora chainset sounds tinny and looks cheap. There are lots of things which could be so much better about my bike.
But I love it!
I might seriously have to consider selling "Jenny" but I can't bring myself to think about it. How could I after all we have been through together? She might only be worth £300 but I will never be able to replace her if she goes. She is unique and she is mine. I almost feel guilty... towards a bike... that I don't really like.
This is the flip side of N+1. Never being able to let go of something. Why we form such close attachments to bikes, beyond even the strange act of naming, is something of a mystery to me. Perhaps it is the physical closeness of a bike, the care and attention we give them, the shared adventures. Maybe it is the way they are awesome mechanical devices which fulfil the purpose for which they are designed so well.
So for me N+1 isn't just about acquisition. It is a complicated relationship between logic and emotion, between aspiration and reality. It is a wonderful statement of a love for cycling and a damning indictment of our obsession with the new and exciting. I'm not sure how I am going to defeat this addiction, and I'm not really sure if I even want to.
