Best moments on the bike!
Brian D. Potter
enjoyment on a bicycle (Rated PG at worst, please).
Although I've had great ones, even a few local practice race wins, one
moment in particular stands out.
Night. Smoothness. Wind lightly in the face, 22.3 mph, descending a
short hill. The smoothness seems particularly sweet, enhanced by the
near silence all around me, no clicking, clanking chattering, humming,
whirring, chugging, rumbling, yelling--not from me, the bike, the cars,
nothing.
I've even forgotten the bike is beneath me. At the bottom of the hill
sits an intersection, with the local minor league baseball stadium lit
up bright as Broadway. As I start climbing the hill next to the
stadium, I hear a clunk. I know instantly that it's me. Or rather, as
I dissociate myself from the bike a little, I know it's a bike
component. I stop pedalling immediately, cranks parallel to the
ground. I look down slowly, tracking like a rail. There it is: my
rear LED, resting in between the crank and the left chain stay. If I
pedal, it's gone. If I don't pedal, this hill looming up in front of me
will sap my momentum. I reach down gingerly with my left hand and pluck
the still pulsing light from its perch. HA. Got it! I look at it
briefly--the plastic mount was too thin at the joint and just snapped.
20 month life-span.
At the midpoint of the uphill, I start pedalling again. I can see into
the practice pitching area. The crowd suddenly erupts in wild
celebrations. I don't take their praise too seriously, but still I
appreciate the gesture. Then I realize that traffic is approaching from
behind and that my rear visibility just went down by 60%. I hold the
still-blinking light behind my back until the cars pass. On the next
rise, the route home demands a left-turn, so I hold out the LED in my
left hand to signal this intent.
After the turn, traffic thins and I slide the little delinquent blinker
into a net pocket on my backpack. The smoothness returns. The
stillness returns. The joy of night-riding remains--it never left.
JJ
The 4 mile downhill and flat mini time trial I get to ride every morning to
work. Going from unconscious to 35 mph in less than 10 minutes...
Weekend metric centuries in Oregon's wine country, with BBQ afterward (gotta
get that post ride protein in)...
Riding in a massive winter rain storm, while people in traffic jams look at
me and wonder why, when it's 45 degrees and pouring rain, I am smiling....
Hunrobe
wrote:
<< Inquiring minds want to know: what is the moment of your greatest
enjoyment on a bicycle (Rated PG at worst, please).
Although I've had great ones, even a few local practice race wins, one
moment in particular stands out >>
Great story, Brian. Especially the roar of the crowd. ;)
There's no crowd in my most recent favorite moment but here it is anyway...
My 15 yr old nephew needed to do a 50 mile ride to qualify for his cycling
badge in the Boy Scouts. He wanted to pick the route. Since he and my sister
live 160 miles away from me I agreed. He'd never cycled the chosen route before
and it was a lot hillier than he thought it'd be. On the day of the ride there
wasn't a cloud in the sky, no shade on the route he'd picked, and the temp was
up around 90F with 85% humidity. He was really suffering at the 45 mile mark
when the sky started to cloud up. Here in Illinois weather can move in very
fast and by the time we hit 46 miles we were in dead air under a tornado sky,
all grey-green and very oppressive. At 47 miles the first raindrops fell, the
big drops that are about a half pint each. At 48 miles the sky opened up for
about two minutes and then died down to a light drizzle with an occasional
glimpse of sunshine. It was like jumping in a cool swimming pool. It felt so
good just to be alive and riding, I even felt sorry for those unfortunate
people passing us in their cars with their stale recycled air conditioning and
their radios drowning out the sounds of their pumping hearts. They had no idea
what they were missing.
Regards,
Bob Hunt
P.S.- He earned that badge. :)
Marc Benton
started a ride in the rain.
Today, I had to ride. Thought about it all day at work. Some days are like that
for me.
I got home changed into my gear, pulled out the bike, did some minor maintenance
and topped off the air in the tires, all with my 6 year old son looking on. Just
as I got on the seat, the rain started to fall. My son suddenly got a big grin
and said "Looks like no ride. Let's go play video games.". I looked at the sky
then back at him and said "See you in a couple of hours." Of course, we played
after I got home.
On another topic, I can't wait for him to get older and start riding with me. We
take a few rides together now but no more than a mile or so.
marc...
"Brian D. Potter" wrote:
> Mmmm. BBQ. I'm convinced that cycling appeals to me because it broadens my
> diet without widening my girth.
>
> Rain-rides are great, too. Thanks for sharin'.
Brian D. Potter
Brian D. Potter
it per square inch than almost anywhere else, so I know what you mean about sudden
showers and green tornado skies. Strange--we've had a wet summer up here, but
Texas is in the middle of a drought.
Ride long and prosper,
BDP
Gene Floyd
> Mmmm. BBQ. I'm convinced that cycling appeals to me because it broadens my
> diet without widening my girth.
>
> Rain-rides are great, too. Thanks for sharin'.
The best moment on my bike? The post-ride feast :)
Seriously, being up before daybreak and watching the sun rise over the Gulf of
Mexico as I ride down US98. Not another soul in site except for an occasional
fisherman or a guy in a pickup (what y'all all call rednecks) heading to the
boatramp with his boat. This early in the AM, they just smile and wave...they know
I'm having as much fun as they plan on having themselves.
--
Gene Floyd
http://www.zylay.com
"Ride to eat, eat to ride."
Brian D. Potter
If he smiled and waved, he's just a country boy with a pickup and a boat. If he
swerves toward you instead of away, he's a redneck.
Riding the Gulf of Mexico (not literally ;-)--sounds like a blast! I've got to get
out of my own neck of the woods more often.
Gene Floyd wrote:
> "Brian D. Potter" wrote:
>
> > Mmmm. BBQ. I'm convinced that cycling appeals to me because it broadens my
> > diet without widening my girth.
> >
> > Rain-rides are great, too. Thanks for sharin'.
>
reha...@my-deja.com
off the coast to blue, red, white, yellow and amber lights around the
now silent Air Base. Neck-level fog fills the low areas, and I ride
through it like I am swimming.
Or the several rides out in the country east of Kansas City, MO. The
last farmers were moving out, the winding dirt roads recently paved,
and the wealthy exurbanites had yet to wreck the very land they moved
out to enjoy. The fish and wildlife at the abandoned pay lake were so
numerous it was creepy - like a Ray Bradbury story. It was like riding
through countryside in the middle of a 10 year sigh of relief. Its all
gone now.
I guess my entire youth was spent playing in a hundred square miles of
mostly wilderness, wilderness that was eaten piece by piece
by "development". Its no wonder my version of utopia would be people
living in high rises linked with monorail, with nature, gardens,and
smooth "ultra light vehicle" paths below. I hope everyone gets their
own version of heaven.
Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/
Before you buy.
Allister
"Brian D. Potter" <brh...@iamerica.net> wrote:
> Rain-rides are great, too. Thanks for sharin'.
>
> JJ wrote:
>
> > <<SNIP>>..
> > Riding in a massive winter rain storm, while people in traffic jams
look at
> > me and wonder why, when it's 45 degrees and pouring rain, I am
smiling....
>
>
Oh yeah, luuuurve them rain rides.
Here in sub-tropical Brisbane, the winters are dry and warm, and the
summers are wet and hot. The rain comes down hard enough to crack your
helmet at times, but it's warm enough to ride in shorts.
I love the feeling of my shoes filling up with water, which body heat
then warms up, so that it feels like a soothing foot-bath even while
I'm riding. I love opening my mouth wide and taking the fat drops of
water full in the back of the throat - leave that water bottle where it
is. I love it when I get home and the dog takes a long leisurely lick
of the water on my legs - road filth, sweat and all. And I love hopping
into a piping hot shower, putting of a nice dry pair of trackies and
kicking back with a beer - and as I listen to the rain pelting the tin
roof I still feel like I'm a part of it, not trying to avoid it.
And to top that: mountain biking in the rain - the hard, dead earth
here holds the water on top of it, whilst still providing a solid
riding surface. It's the best of both worlds, and you have the trails
to yourself. Ain't nothin' quite like plowing along a crank deep creek,
that on any other day would be called a trail, with nothing but the
sound of rain hitting leaves for company :^)
Allister
--
Co-operation - not competition.
Diversity - not division.
Unity - not uniformity.
Yip Kok Lok
still daylight but I wonder if I am visible despite having lights on. I
feel vulnerable.
The 3 lane road is packed with moving traffic, one side of it is a park
with towering trees.
Then all 4 + wheeled traffic comes to a dead standstill, even motorcycles
are stuck.
I can creep through, lo behold, an enormous tree has fallen across the
road pinning down a lorry (nobody's hurt) completely cutting off the road
to all traffic...........except me.
I put me bike on my shoulder and clamber over the tree, all 3 lanes are mine !!
For the next 10km, there's only me, my bike and the rain........
it is great, only my bike got through.
I did read somewhere, that when disaster (eg earthquakes) strikes, only
bicycles can really get about which proves what a extremely robust vehicle
a bicycle is.
HAIL TO the BICYCLE.
brod...@mindspring.com
Wisconsin and Iowa. One leg of the trip I grossly under-calculated
and it ended up being 98 miles rather than the 60 that I thought it
would be. With loaded bikes we kicked it in toward dusk to try to
make it to the park before they closed the gates. During this trip it
seemed as though all of the parks were on the highest point in the
county. About a half mile before the park in a steep climb, I
completely bonked. I have never been so totally exhausted in my life.
I barely had enough energy left to stop my bike and crawl off. I'm
sure that had to be my maximum heart rate of all time. My son said
"Dad, I'll ride on and check us in, I'll be right back." I watched as
he sprinted up the hill and he was back in about 10 minutes with our
campsite. I could tell how proud of himself he was even though he
never did make a comment. Not nearly as proud as I was of him.
On another tour we were coming into a small country town with a
railroad runing through it. As we approched a set of tracks that were
at about a 45 deg. angle to the road I sensed that he wasn't going to
cut into them. Just as I was about to give him a shout, his front rim
slipped into the track and he went down. I was about 10 feet off his
rear wheel and couldn't react fast enough to avoid running right over
him, bike and all. After I made sure that he was OK, I busted out
laughing and could barely stand up. For the next few days he made
sure that I took the front.
On a tour in Michigan we were pretty toasted by the time we got to the
park we had planned on camping in. While I was setting up my tent (a
clip flashlight), I noticed the guy next to us in a motor home
watching me. After I finished cooking dinner he came over to check
out the tent. He said he thought that it was a snowmobile cover and
wondered how we were going to sleep in it.
Dana Brodbeck
KMsSavage
at the Midwest Tandem Rally, the route took us through a small town
the-urban-sprawl-that-is-Chicagoland, and down a steep hill.
I told the nieces, "we're about to start going fast in 30 seconds."
They started counting: "30, 29, 28..."
I said "make that 10 seconds."
We crossed the RR tracks, I let it go, and tucked. The kids were screaming
like it was a roller coaster, yelling out our increasing speed as the numbers
inched upward on the computers. 31.2 mph! Wow!
Later on, a whole group of us crawled *up* a fairly long hill on the w-i-d-e
shoulder of a busy highway. After the turn and gentle downhill at the top, we
encountered some of the same tandem teams, who warmly praised us. "You did good
on that hill."
This was the babes' longest ride ever: 24.5 miles, About 90 degrees all day,
high humidex, gentle-to-stiff breezes. We concluded the ride with a water
fight, engaging other teams as well.
Tomorrow? We'll see.
--Karen M.
"Girl Power" tandem & trail-a-bike
Claire Petersky
publicly for posting what appeared to be just another family ride, but for
me, it was something special.
Trip summary:
Distance: 30.8 miles from Marymoor Park to Bothell Landing and back
(http://www.metrokc.gov/parks/trails/trails/burke.htm)
Time: Four hours, from 10:30 AM to 2:30 PM
Weather: 70 - 75 degrees F, winds about 5-10 mph from the west, humidity
42%
Riders: Claire, 38 years old, 1986 Rockhopper with slicks and bar
ends
Rose, 7 years old, 1999 Trail-a-bike
Major stops: Texas Smokehouse BBQ, Wilmot Park playground, Bothell
Landing Park playground.
Notes:
--Rose was highly enthusiastic for this ride, and didn't complain once about
any aspect of the trip.
--We stopped whenever Rose wanted to, which was often. We had water, clif
bars, picked blackberries during rest stops.
--The Bothell Landing Baskin and Robbins is out-of-business :-(
--If we do this again, I'm "Texas-sizing" my BBQ order -- Rose ate most of
my cole slaw and consumed three-quarters of my soda.
Snapshot: It's 1:30 PM. Rose is wading in the Sammamish River, and I'm
sitting on its bank in the tall dry grass. It's warm and sunny, blue skies
with fluffy clouds. Dragonflies and swallows flit over the slow-moving
river; a flotilla of ducks upstream hang out in the shade. Goldenrod and
purple loosestrife grow alongside the banks, adding splashes of color. The
breeze rattles the cottonwood trees' leaves. Rose laughs as she gets
splashed by
the stones she's throwing into the river. It feels so perfect, so *right*,
you wish you could put it in a bottle and keep it like that forever.