Don’t hate me because I’m beautiful….

This past weekend I was fortunate enough to sneak in a bike ride in between working on the renovation of our bathroom. Because my time was limited, I decided to roll down into the Valley to get my biggest bang for the buck and tackle some of the climbs down there. One of my favorite descents there is Wheatley Road. For those who are somewhat familiar with the Valley, Wheatley will tie into Everett Road which is where the classic Covered Bridge Series is held each year. Wheatley, unless it’s an evening where there’s a concert happening over at Blossom, is lightly traveled by cars, smooth and has a fast descent which includes some s-curves on it. My point of this apparent rambling? Only to introduce the meaning behind the title of this post. When I made the juncture onto Everett, I noticed I started passing quite a few cyclists going in the opposite direction. Seeing cyclists in the Valley isn’t uncommon, in fact on the weekends the place is packed with overfilling lycra. However, the numbers of riders I was seeing was way more than the common group ride heading out from Szalay’s Farm. Turns out, these riders were taking in the morning’s charity ride called STOMP. I wish cyclists were like motorcycle riders in terms of their customs and traditions. Next time you’re out riding, take notice when you see two bikers passing each other. Without hesitation, you see their left arm drop down to the ground for a way cool sign of….hey. Doesn’t matter if it’s a 20 something on a crotch-rocket or a member of the Hells Angels passing each other, they recognize that there is a commonality between them. Even if its only riding on two wheels, they know that they’ve found a secret that most of society hasn’t, traveling through life on two wheels is just more fun. A quick google search on this even found tons of articles and discussions on this subject alone. Back to my point and all the riders I was seeing. I like to be friendly when I’m out riding, but I don’t quite get what others are thinking. I’m passing dozens and dozens of riders, I’m waving, nodding my head, saying good morning, everything but the majority of my fellow cyclists don’t respond at all. I could understand if they were in the middle of a race, but this is a charity ride for Christ’s sake, riding for the pure enjoyment of it without all the suffering. Maybe it’s my goofy smile like a virgin on prom night that scares them away. Maybe it’s my shaved legs or matching kit that they seem to think makes me “so-pro” that they mistakenly get the impression that we’re not the same. Well, we are. Just like the motorcyclists, cyclists have found out that riding through life on two wheels is just more fun.

brian