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Though I only met Sheldon only once in person--and very briefly at that--I felt I knew him through his writings and photographs. He was one of those crazy-to-the-core bike nuts-- what with his Lincoln’s beard and plastic bird bedazzled helmet--that made you raise an eyebrow and chuckle only to be bowled over by his encyclopedic bike knowledge. Scholarly and academic but approachable and down-to-earth, I could easily see him as a college professor that even after a couple of decades in the classroom would return year after year with infectious optimism.
I can’t even count the number of times--mid-repair and up to my elbows in grease--that I checked my work against his site only to have Sheldon let me know that, no, I in fact installed everything 100% backwards and needed to start over. You’d think I would have learned to check with him first but I’m slow like that sometimes. I was actually just on his site last week researching my old bikes...and wouldn’t you know it, Sheldon had a link to the info on my old Raleigh Grand Prix that Google didn’t even pick up.
As an industry, a sport, and a culture we are drawn to the glitz and the glamor--for bicycling it’s more-often-than-not the races and the racers. But Sheldon is a reminder of what the bicycle truly is--a simple pleasure with amazing versatility and a bottomless soul. It is truly extra-ordinary. Just. Like. Him.
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