Two Tired to Pedal

One of the best memories of my life was the day my Dad brought home my first bike. It was quite simple; a diamond frame, semi-pneumatic tires, no freewheel hub, no brakes (and no training wheels, btw). I clearly remember him helping me wobble down the driveway and crashing into the sidewalk. In an instant I was up and back on, feeling him gently guide me along the pavement. After a few moments I turned around to tell him I think I had the hang of it, only to notice he was one hundred yards back smiling as big as I was. I turned back around and headed into a new era of my life. I was four years old.

I can't tell you how many bikes I have owned since then. But I've always had at least one since that fateful day. Sometimes two or three. They have ranged from Stingrays to road bikes to bmx bikes to cruisers to mountain bikes. A bicycle means FREEDOM! Well... it used to.

I figure there are three kinds of cyclists in the world: Those that have to ride a bike (can't afford any other kind of transportation), those that become obsessed with riding a bike (the ones with all the spandex) and kids. Well, there is a forth kind- the grown-ups that ride the cruiser bikes they got at Wal Mart at 4 miles per hour through the neighborhood. But they only do that about once before they park it in the garage and use it to hang laundry on. So they don't count.

So for most of my life I happily fit into that 'kid' bracket. Even when I became an adult. Yeah, I would just hop on my ol' bike and tool around the neighborhood (faster than 4 mph), or hit some trail somewhere and disappear into the woods for a while. Then I got a more expensive bike. Then I got a helmet. Then I got some bike shorts. Then I got some gloves. Then I got a Camelbak. Then I got a real expensive bike. Then I got a flat ten miles from the trailhead, so then I got a pump and a patch kit and a bag to pack it in. Then I got an air shock and had to get a special pump for that. And then...

One day I decided it was time to go with 'clipless pedals'. And that's the day I crossed over into the 'obsessed with riding a bike' camp. All of a sudden I looked back and started paying attention to how much time it took me to get prepped for a ride. I looked around at how much real estate all my paraphernalia took up in the garage. I also started paying attention to how much my bike just stayed up on the ceiling in those little yellow hooks I bought at Home Depot.

So I think my next bike might just be a throwback to that little diamond frame clunker with the single speed, rubber pedals, and white handlebars. Then I can just run out to the garage and hop on any ol' time I want. After all, my Mom still thinks I'm four.