Chapter 1: In Which We Meet Our Hero, Ishmael
Call me Ishmael. Some years ago—never mind how long precisely—having little or no money in my purse and nothing particular to interest me in the cycling world, I thought I would ride about a little and see the tracklocross part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before track bikes and bringing up the rear of every group ride I encounter; and especially whenever my hygienist assures me it’s time to get out more, then, I account it high time to get on my bike as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball.
I am that man who, from the very first, always had a bit of an odd itch in the marrow of his bones to chase after the rarest, most elusive, and most prized of all the track bikes known to humanity: the Surly Steamroller frameset. The last of its kind, a relic from a bygone era when gravel grinding and velodrome racing merged into a single, glorious cycling discipline. A frameset so rare it’s whispered that even Bigfoot himself would swap his hairy paws for a chance to ride it.
I have seen fellow cyclists driven mad with desire for this elusive beast. Some have sold their souls for a mere glimpse of its welds, while others have forsaken their families, their fortunes, and their chain lubes in the pursuit of this holy grail of bike frames. But for me, Ishmael, this quest is more than just a desire to own the unownable. It is a quest for purpose, for meaning, and for the ultimate thrill of the ride.
And so, with nothing but a rusty single-speed and a heart full of dreams, I set forth on my journey to hunt down the last remaining Surly Steamroller tracklocross frameset, wherever it may be.
Chapter 2: In Which We Meet Captain Ahab, the Man Obsessed
It was on a stormy evening in a seedy bike shop in the heart of the city that I first laid eyes on him: Captain Ahab, the man possessed by a singular, all-consuming obsession. He stood before me, tall and imposing, his beard tangled like the spokes of a neglected wheel, his eyes burning with a fire that seemed to come from the very depths of the bicycle underworld.
“Aye, matey,” he growled, his voice gravelly like the path less travelled. I’ve been chasing that beast of a frameset for nigh on twenty years—twenty years of blood, sweat, and broken spoke nipples. But mark my words, Ishmael, I’ll not rest until I’ve laid my hands on that Surly Steamroller frameset and made it mine.”
I was taken aback by the intensity of his gaze, the fervour of his conviction. It was as if he had been consumed by the very spirit of the bike itself, driven mad by the relentless pursuit of his quarry.
“And what of you, lad?” he asked, his voice softening just a touch. “What brings you to this forsaken place, with that look of longing in your eye?”
I hesitated for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal to this stranger with the wild look in his eye. But something about the way he spoke and moved told me that he was a kindred spirit, a fellow seeker of the elusive and the extraordinary.
“I seek the Surly Steamroller frameset,” I said at last, my voice trembling with excitement and fear. “I seek it not for wealth or fame but for the sheer thrill of the chase, the exhilaration of the ride.”
Captain Ahab’s eyes widened in astonishment, and then, to my surprise, a smile spread across his weather-beaten face.
“Then we are kindred spirits indeed, Ishmael,” he said, clapping me on the shoulder with a force that nearly knocked me off my feet. “For I, too, have long sought that elusive beast, and I would be honoured to have you by my side in this quest. Together, we shall ride to the ends of the earth, if need be, to hunt down the last remaining Surly Steamroller tracklocross frameset and claim it as our own.”
And with that, the die was cast, and I found myself swept up in the whirlwind of Captain Ahab’s obsession, ready to embark on the adventure of a lifetime.
Chapter 3: In Which We Prepare for the Journey Ahead
With Captain Ahab as my guide and mentor, I threw myself wholeheartedly into the preparations for our epic quest. We spent countless hours poring over maps and charts, studying the movements of the stars and the tides, and plotting our course to the farthest reaches of the cycling world.
We gathered supplies and provisions, loading our panniers with spare tubes and tyre levers, energy gels and electrolyte tablets, and enough granola bars to sustain us through the leanest of times. We sharpened our wits and honed our skills, practising our bunny hops and track stands and perfecting our ability to navigate the treacherous terrain that lay ahead.
But most importantly, we steeled ourselves for the challenges that awaited us, both physical and mental. For we knew that the road ahead would be fraught with peril, that we would face obstacles and adversaries unlike any we had ever encountered before. But we also knew that with courage and determination, we could overcome any obstacle, no matter how daunting.
And so, with our bikes loaded and our spirits high, we set forth on our journey, ready to face whatever lay ahead with hearts full of hope and minds full of determination.
Chapter 4: In Which We Encounter the Frame
Our journey took us to the farthest reaches of the cycling world, through sun-drenched deserts and snow-capped mountains, across wind-swept plains and storm-tossed seas. We faced fierce headwinds and blistering heat, bone-chilling cold and torrential rain, but through it all, we pressed on, driven by the fire of our passion and the strength of our conviction.
But as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, our resolve began to waver, and doubts began to creep into our minds. For try as we might, the Surly Steamroller remained as elusive as ever, a ghostly apparition that danced just beyond our grasp, taunting us with its tantalizing presence.
And then, just when it seemed that all hope was lost, we encountered him: the White Whale of the cycling world, the legendary Surly Steamroller frameset, lurking in the depths of a forgotten bike shop at the edge of the world.
It was a sight to behold, a thing of beauty and terror, with its sleek steel frame, menacing disc brakes, knobby tyres, and single-speed drivetrain. It seemed to shimmer and gleam in the shop’s dim light, casting a spell over all who beheld it and drawing them in with its irresistible allure.
Captain Ahab’s eyes widened in astonishment, and a low growl rumbled in his throat as he beheld the object of his obsession.
“There it is, Ishmael,” he whispered hoarsely, his voice trembling with excitement and fear. “The Surly Steamroller, the last of its kind, the holy grail of bike frames. We have found it at last, and it shall be ours!”
And with that, he leapt forward, his eyes blazing with determination, his hands outstretched to claim his prize. But before he could reach it, a figure emerged from the shadows, blocking his path with a look of fierce determination on his face.
“Stop right there, you scurvy dogs!” the figure bellowed, brandishing a wrench like a weapon. “That frameset belongs to me, and I’ll be damned if I let you lay a finger on it!”
It was the owner of the shop, a grizzled old pirate of a man with a fierce scowl and a foul temper to match. He had been hiding in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to make his move, and now that moment had come.
But Captain Ahab was not to be deterred. With a roar of defiance, he lunged forward, his fists flying like pistons as he battled the pirate for control of the frameset. It was a fierce and bloody struggle, with blows raining down like thunder and curses flying like arrows, but in the end, it was Captain Ahab who emerged victorious, clutching the frameset to his chest like a newborn babe.
As he stood there, triumphant and breathless, a wild look of ecstasy on his face, I couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy and admiration. For in that moment, I knew that he had achieved what few men ever could: he had conquered the White Whale of the cycling world and emerged victorious.
Chapter 5: In Which We Return Home
With the Surly Steamroller frameset safely in our possession, we made our way back to civilisation, our hearts full of triumph and our heads held high. We rode through towns and villages, across fields and forests, with the wind at our backs and the sun on our faces, and everywhere we went, people stopped and stared in awe at the sight of the legendary frameset in our midst.
But as we neared the end of our journey, a feeling of sadness began to creep into our hearts, for we knew that our adventure was drawing to a close, and that soon we would have to part ways and return to our ordinary lives.
And so, when we finally reached the city where it all began, we bid each other farewell with tears in our eyes and promises on our lips. For though our paths may diverge and our destinies may lead us in different directions, we would always be bound together by the bond of our shared adventure and by the memories we had forged along the way.
And as I watched Captain Ahab ride off into the sunset, the Surly Steamroller frameset gleaming in the fading light, I knew that I would never forget the epic quest we had undertaken, or the man who had shown me what it truly means to chase after your dreams, no matter how impossible they may seem.
And so, dear reader, I leave you with this final thought: never give up on your dreams, no matter how wild or improbable they may seem. For as long as you have the courage to pursue them with all your heart and soul, anything is possible, and the world is yours for the taking.
Fiefdom Tracklocross 
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