What Color Is Your Ride?

 It isn’t easy being green!

GOAT—Or Just Horny?

 Until recently, I thought “goat” denoted an an animal that lives in the mountains and has horns.  

Only a few years ago, I learned that “GOAT” is an acronym for the “Greatest Of All Time.”

That title has been bestowed upon Michael Jordan, Tom Brady and other record-setting athletes. It’s commonly agreed that cycling’s GOAT is Eddy Merckx.

More than one of my old cycling buddies probably thought of themselves as the “GOAT.” Of course they weren’t.

But they were goats in one other way:

Did cycling make them horny?

A Translation of “Hasta La Vista, Baby!”

 As cheesy as it sounds, I have envisioned a movie, video or play ending with the main character mounting a bicycle and intoning, “See you later, alligator!”

How Do They Ride?

 The ride of some bikes has been described as “squirrels.” What riders mean is that the bike seems to wiggle, squirm or furtively jump, usually at high speeds (especially downhill) or when the rider pulls on the handlebars or stands up on the bike.

That got me to wondering:  Do squirrels ever describe anything as bike-y?

How An Elephant Got There…

In Animal Crackers, Groucho Marx quipped, “One morning, I shot an elephant in my pajamas. How an elephant got into my pajamas, I’ll never know.”

I have seen one elephant who wasn’t in a zoo or otherwise in captivity.  Even if I hadn’t seen that pachyderm, and even though I am, shall we say, a bit more corpulent than I was thirty years ago, I don’t know how an elephant could get into my pajamas—or on my bike.

If You Don’t Jump The Shark, It Will Ride You

Nearly a decade ago (!), I wrote about my old Land Shark bicycle.

I got to thinking about it when I came across this:

Doggie Pedaling

Image credit

Who says you can’t teach an old dog new  tricks?

The Colors of My Memories

 Once upon a time, I was a wannabe, unsuccessful, and then a manqué, racer. I wore jerseys—and sometimes shorts and helmets—that were veritable riots of color.

These  days, most of the Lycra bike outfits I see are in carbon-bike hues:  stealth black, carbon-neutral gray and the like.

Oh, I miss the good ol’ days!

Does It Matter Where They See Their Shadows--Or How They Get There?

 According to legend, if Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow when he peeks out of his burrow, there will be six more weeks of wintry weather. If he doesn't, Spring is just around the corner.

I wonder:  Does Phil--or any of his local counterparts across the country--have to pop out of the ground?  Does it count if he, or any other groundhog, peeks his or her head out of some sort of human-made vessel--like, say, a bike basket?

The question probably never would have entered my mind if I hadn't seen, again, the image of Bill Murray reprising his role as Phil (of course!) Connor for a Jeep commercial.  Although the ad is mainly for the company's four-wheeled vehicles, for a few seconds, Murray tries to escape the repetition of the time loop on a bicycle.

At least she's wearing a helmet!

All right, it's an e-bike.  But I had to admit that it was fun to see Poppy peek her head out of the basket.  I wonder what she's doing these days...or today in particluar.

Speaking of which...Phil saw his shadow.  Our local weather-hog, Staten Island Chuck, didn't see his.  Hmm...Six more weeks of winter or early spring? Does Poppy get a tie-breaking vote?

I'll Bet You've Never Had A Ride Home Like This One

Ya gotta love Ukraine.  In the worst moments of its recent history--its invasion by Russia-- its citizens have been resourceful and resilient.  They  even make us smile.

Case in point:  Chichi was found wandering the streets of Kharkiv, the country's second-largest city.  It makes sense that she was disoriented:  She's a chimpanzee who escaped from the city zoo.

Now, I can understand her, or any other animal's, wanting to bolt from such confinement.  Such a desire is particularly understandable when you realize that she'd been transferred to that zoo from Feldman Park, an outdoor preserve on the war's frontlines. 

But she is no safer roaming an unfamiliar city in a warzone than any human would be.  If anything, she's in more danger, as she doesn't know her way around and doesn't speak Ukranian or Russian.

Oh, and she didn't have an umbrella.  And it started to rain.

That's when she spotted, and ran to, one of the zoo's keepers.  They embraced.  The keeper slung a yellow rain slicker over the animal--and propped her on the seat of a bicycle.

Now Chichi's ride is over and she's back in the zoo.  But even though it's more secure than Feldman Park, neither she nor the keeper are out of danger:  Several volunteers who helped to evacuate the animals have been killed during Russian attacks.

Whatever happens, I suppose Chichi won't ever forget her bike ride.

What's On A Cyclist's Head?

Should this cyclist wear a helmet?

 

Never Changing Their Stripes

Zebrakenko bicycles first appeared in the US during the mid-1970s, just past the Bike Boom's peak.

Like many other Japanese bikes of that era, their lugwork and paint were clean, and they came with good, high-value components from the likes of SunTour, Shimano, Sugino and Sakae Ringyo (SR).  

Somewhere along the way--I am guessing in the early or mid-1980s, the name was shortened to "Zebra."  It was, I reckon, an attempt to evoke the animal's agility, as I don't recall any of their bikes painted with black and white stripes.

Or, perhaps, whoever rebranded the bikes had this in mind: