Buying a bike is always one of my rare guilty pleasures. I am not wealthy by American standards, nor do I have lots of disposable income to spare on an item that can range from $700 through several thousand dollars. So I have bought less than a half-dozen new bikes in my entire life. I have bought a couple of used bikes, but those lack the snap, crackle, and pop of a new bike.

Last Friday, I just picked up my new Surly Pacer road bike. It was the last 2014 model in the country, according to the store. The color is sparkleboogie blue. I like that name, but it is really like a baby or Carolina blue. The Pacer has a great reputation for being a no-nonsense machine that delivers a quality experience without the fru-fru and showiness of composite bikes or designer bikes that are all about displays of wealth and conspicuous consumption.

Surly understands the market I represent and, well, I might have fallen for some of their marketing language: “The current zeitgeist of road bicycles and road bicycling generally tends to overlook things that are not screaming for attention like a spoiled child, and the Pacer is a bit of a loner.  Pacer likes to put in the big miles and hang out in the country, way out in the country. Pacer cares not about the weather. It remains indifferent mile after mile, you just provide the propulsion and Pacer will handle the rest.”

Yes, that is the kind of biker I am.

I also always feel like a kid when I ride a bike, so a new bike is having two kid pleasures at once. I feel particularly good about this bike because I delayed gratification for more than a year, as I debated the merits of spending $1,250 (bike alone) for a material object.

Really, this is about consumption. It is an absurd amount of money for a thing, which mainly is about exercise and fun. This amount of money is also equivalent to twice the annual income of a resident of Malawi or Afghanistan. For billions of people, literally, this type of object must seem like a frivolous waste. It does not generate income. It does not carry goods to the market. It cannot carry your family members like bikes in Africa and India I have seen.

But for the moment, I will let that all go, and just go for a ride.

This bike replaces a road bike I bought from REI in 1991. That was a Novara Strada, and at the time it cost me about $650. It still works just fine, though some parts are ready to collapse and die. Really, it was time to say adios to a good friend. It has logged thousands of wonderful miles in great places, from Alaska to North Carolina to California to Oregon and Washington.

I would say my new bike at best performs about 15 percent better. That is not a big margin, and it may not even justify the extravagance. But the bike for me represents a gift to myself for having completed some big life projects and tasks that took a number of years. I could not afford the reward when I wanted it the most. Rewards are critically important, to mark accomplishments and celebrate change. Hoping this change brings many great adventures with friends and celebrating the joys of being a kid, pedaling as fast as I can, smiling as wide as my mouth will allow.