Misty Morning Ride
I had no scheduled cases this morning, even though I was on call. That is a rarity, and my beeper was quiet on my neck. It was a peaceful ride as my gumwall racing slicks skimmed the layer of dampness off the asphalt in front of them.
The Raleigh One Speed that I built is a wonderful cross between a racing bike and a cruiser. I don't know what you would call it, really. I was struck by it's tall, narrow structure as I dismounted to take a few photos about five miles away. It's a good looking, unpretentious bike, with all the right stuff and nothing unnecessary for pure cycling enjoyment.
Last year, when I decided to begin riding again, I discovered a part of my youth that I had forgotten. The hot summer days that me and my friends spent building bicycles from scrap for bombing runs down the Hill of Doom had been forgotten. This morning, I pondered how different things are for many kids today. If a bicycle isn't purchased at the mega-mart (at least, a bike store bike is preferred) it just isn't fit for them, in their eyes, to ride. They will never develop the appreciation of building a machine that they themselves will get on top of, and prove to themselves and others that they can not only defeat the Hill of Doom, with it's Dead Man's Curve and Bitchshova Gulley at the bottom, but they can do so on a bike of your own creation, risking teeth and limb. The legacy of Wilbur, Orville, and Sylvester seemed to be lost today.
Then, I remembered the guys who build their own fixed gear bikes and bomb through the urban streets of most major cities. I remembered the kids who build low rider monstrosity bikes and cruise at night. The old kids on Rat Rod bikes........Yeah, the gestalt of bicycling is not dead, just evolved.