Bicycles

I used to ride a bike. In Middle School. I’ll be 28 in August. It’s been a while. About 9 years into my 10 years in NYC, I decided it would be great to ride my bike in Central Park. I asked my poor mother to please arrange to have my bike shipped from Boulder, Co to NYC. Keep in mind; when I turned 16, my father bought me a mountain bike. About 2 months later, I got the Oldsmobile, but I always wondered what he was thinking, buying a 16 year old a bike for their birthday. IT’S ALL ABOUT THE CARS MAN!

Flash forward to 2007. My bike arrives via USPS, but to get it in the box, it’s been mangled. That’s ok, I take it to Liberty Bikes on 9th Ave and 55th. For $60 they fix me up. One morning, I get inspired. I wheel that bad boy out at 6:30am and start off on the 10 mile CP loop from Columbus Circle.

Somewhere around the top of the park (after coming to a complete standstill on the big hill. Gears? What do those do?! Ack, fall over) I am on the down hill part, it’s time to head home. But you know what? It’s 7am. The cars are now allowed in the park. THE CABS ARE NOW ALLOWED IN THE PARK. PS, the left brake isn’t really working. Imminent Death faces me. Somehow I make it home. My bike remains parked until I leave NYC.

Now I’m in Chicago. I’m by the lake. There is a lovely path. I need to get it together. I take that bike to Johnny Sprockets, one fine day. “Where are you planning to ride this thing? The Himalayas?” Apparently my 12 year old tire treads are a source of amusement. Apparently 12 years ago in Boulder, CO you needed treads so thick you could grip onto anything. Now, not so much.

I cringe, but I suck it up and get those fancy Kevlar tires that are so thin and light I can hardly stand it. Now my biggest problems are getting the old Schwin in and out of the bike room in my apartment building. IT’s HARDER than you would imagine. Especially with U-Locks and Kevlar chains and the like.

After all that, I’ve ridden it a few times. But tonight, TONIGHT ladies and gentleman, was the first time ever… I attempted to ride a bike after half of a magnum of wine. LET ME TELL YOU. IT is fantastic. The breeze in your face, the zigging, the zagging. WHOA BABY. I have no health insurance and I wasn’t wearing a helmet, but man was that fun.

Houston, We Have A Problem.

XO.