I remember absolutely sending it across the hill for the first time without training wheels at my local park on my first candy-red bike with patriotic teddy-bear decals. Then it was the neighborhood bike gangs that rode in the sewers and culverts under our neighborhood in elementary school. Middle and high school consisted of under-biking to the max with cheap suspension fork hybrids on robust XC trails [well-above our bikes' pay-grade] winding along the green tendrils extending from Rock Creek Park, DC. After a few years of adult jobs climbing trees, I afforded myself my first real full-suspension MTB. But then I needed a gravel bike... and then I needed a fast XC hardtail to go back to my roots... and then I needed to build my dream MTB... followed by stray 90's steel frames that entered my life needing a home. More recently, I've been trying to complete ultra endurance feats I have no business attempting, and in 2023 I became the first [and only] person to complete the Eastern Divide Trail bikepacking route thru Northbound. I came back to the "real world" and went straight back to working on bikes. And then suddenly I realized I had been professionally wrenching on bikes for 6 years. 

The Grey Catbird [dumetella carolinensis] that spans the east coast is known for it's raspy mew, celeste eggshells, and it's symbolism of adaptability and resourcefulness.

[I like to think that's me].