I found this strange device in my garage. It was all chains and wheels. It seemed vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t quite place it. The wheels made it seem as if was meant to be pushed or ridden, and it was easily narrow enough to straddle. I tried that, and what I originally took for a seat was so darned uncomfortable that, for a moment, I doubted that it was meant to be a seat at all.
It had these two sticky out bits (not that I want to get too technical on you) but they seemed awfully skinny. Then I found these odd shoes in my closet which, believe it or not, had metal sockets on them that the two skinny sticky out things fit neatly into with a satisfying click.
Deciding after all that this odd but strangely familiar device was some sort of vehicle, I decided to go for a ride on it. The temperature was about thirty two degrees out, but I found all of these odd clothes in my closet. Getting dressed was like getting ready for a deep sea diving adventure. I wonder if the knights of old had so many things to put on.
Shorts. Heavy tights. Under armour. Jersey. Vest. Gloves. Toasti Toes. Balaclava. Wool socks. Shoes. Booties. Helmet.
Wait a minute. Tights and booties? Yep, we cyclists are a manly lot.
“Are those your cycling gloves?” my Lovely Lovely asked.
“Nope,” I said. “They’re cross country skier’s gloves, so they don’t have padding everywhere I wish they did, but they’re the warmest gloves I have.”
They are, too.
I thought that it was really cold in the garage. Then I stepped outside and the wind hit me. Oh, my goodness. It was cold with a capital brrrrrrrr.
By the way, I called this bi-sicle because it was like a popsicle. See? It sounds bicycle but it was really cold out and people would get it because they would…um…think of a popsicle…which is…really…cold? No. That didn’t work, did it? Never mind.
I was not the only crazy out on the road in the freezing cold this morning. Quite early on a saw I guy jogging. Now, if I shaved my head totally bald and it was that cold out, I think I would have had a hat on. He obviously disagreed.
What with the heavy clothes and the wind and the cold and my lack of saddle time lately, it was hard going. At one point I started pushing hard and my legs cussed me out and then asked me what on earth I thought I was doing.
Scenes of Star Trek went through my head. The real Star Trek.
“Scotty, give me more power!”
“I canna do it, Captain.”
Then, about twelve miles into the ride, my body suddenly woke up. It was amazing. I could almost hear the click as the machinery kicked in. All of sudden, I was a cyclist again. The pace picked up, I felt my blood pumping. It was great.
There’s a particular stretch of road where I always try to push the pace as hard as I can and maintain it. Today it was a little more difficult, and I had to resort to the “until I reach” trick.
I’m going to keep this pace up until I reach that sign. Okay, now I’m going to keep the pace up until I reach that mail box. No, that mailbox is too far away. I’m going to keep this pace up until I reach that clump of grass. Okay…
I passed a guy riding the wrong way down the road, perilously close to the yellow line. I mentioned him to my Lovely Lovely who asked, “Was it a cyclist of just a bike rider?”
She has learned well.
It was cold and hard and really really fun. I’m still alive after all.
Now all I have to do is get back out for another ride sometime this year. That would be great.
See you on the road.