I always liked the smell of new tires. It reminds me of times when, as a kid, I’d go into the neighborhood bike shop to see all the new bikes. I’d walk around the store, check out the paint, the chrome, the spokes and gears in close detail, while delighting at the intoxicating scents of new rubber, plastics, and the oil used to lube the chains; but mostly it was about tires. It was the scent of freedom. It was the scent of the future. It was the scent of independence!

As time went by, even though I didn’t visit bicycle shops, it was always an honor to “need” new tires. Sure it was expensive, but it was, after all, a chance to visit the local tire dealer. Before I stepped through the tire store’s doorway, I’d have gone through at least half a dozen ads in the local newspaper and in Autoweek. But shortly after crossing the store’s threshold, the scent was captivating. It was akin to a euphoric, seductive drug. A drug that inspired safety, a sense of security, and of adventure. New tires were a sense of power. It was a chance to learn the car’s prowess anew.

The tires would always cost way too much, and even though money mattered, I’d always downplay that part. The soft grippy look freshly mounted tires, the tread so deep that light seemed to disappear in the chasm between the treads, soft nibs of rubber from the tire forming process sticking out everywhere, the pale blue, green and red dye along the middle of the tread that would disappear after a few weeks. And the scent. For some reason I always bought tires at the end of the day. Seeing new tires on my car was a sun-down event. The look of new tires in fading light made for a moment when the car was reborn.

Later came a time when new tires represented a decision point. Should I buy new tires or start looking for a new car? I never liked buying a new car, even a new-used car. The expense. The uncertainty and cold feet. The bank loan and the battle to ignore the cost of interest and depreciation.

As my income increased, I opted for nicer cars, performance and luxury cars.

When I started looking at Mercedes I was surprised because they often didn’t come with the best performance tires. Tires weren’t so important to Mercedes, I guess. Somehow the tires got relegated as just another part of the machine. Sure they were speed rated, but not as purrdy and somehow not as important as tires on a Porsche. Tires were important, so when it was time for replacement, I always bought higher performance tires. Not the best, maybe one step below. After I bought my first Mercedes, I stopped thinking about replacing the car after only a couple tire changes, but along the way I also lost the sense of enthusiasm for the delight new tires used to bring.

As the years past, the intrigue for tires started to fade. Tires became just another thing needing occasional attention. Another nuisance-obligation in too-busy a life. And then, after 45 years dappled by purchases of tires for motorcycles, cars and trucks, I bought another bicycle. The scent of the tires is what stands out in my mind most from that day. Since then riding a bike has always brought a sense of joy that is unmatched in its way. It is at times a way to find the simple freedom I experienced as a child. Funny how the pursuit of a busy life can make you loose track of some of your goals. After a while you succumb to the world of bigger things yet may be unable to find the objects which bring you pleasure.

I still find the biggest sense of freedom when riding my bike, and I hope, especially on this 4th of July, that the reader finds something which provides a sense of freedom, even if it is the scent of new tires. That is, after all, a scent of independence.

All of which reminds me … my bike needs a new rear tire. Heh.