"Allen key. Torque wrench. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is attached. Transplant complete."
"We'll only know in a few weeks if it's not been rejected, in the meantime all we can do is wrap it up and wait."
My new bars were on, a moment of necessity that brought Darwin to my cycling. You see a few years back I broke my arm, and while my elbow was diligently put back together with varying amounts of metal plate and wire it did mean that drop bars became something of a literal pain. It wasn't actually the drop itself, but the narrowness, and angle with hands resting on the hoods. That this problem only manifested itself after a few days a repetitive riding wasn't an issue as the bars were on a weekend tourer. And then my commuting bike broke. Terminally.
Three days on the tourer and that familiar ache made its way into the joint, and so the moustache bars on the dead commuter were transplanted, which much deliberation over brake position. Three more days and the transplant was deemed a success, with the added bonus of the additional width rendering what was once twitchy into a nimble jam-buster.
Evolution in acceleration. Pondering more my frame suddenly took on the mantle of Trigger's broom. Built four years ago, the new bars were simply the latest step in an adaptation process as the demands and purpose saw realisations of improvements which could be made.
The wheels have changed; a change to a triple chainring simply demanded that the groupset was altered; different brake pads are compared and contrasted; even the brakes themselves have been, in my eyes at least, improved. Roll in the tyres and removal of a pannier rack in favour of a Carradice bag and shorter stem (another comfort change) and the addition of mudguards and all that remains of the original are the headset, bottom bracket and brake levers.
But this is evolution in sideways advancement. The parts that come off, in general, bring their own evolutionary change to other bikes in the stable. Darwin would be proud...