We’ve all seen sepia-toned photos of mustachioed, too-hatted men astride “penny-farthing” (high-wheeler) bikes.
You may even have seen an image of a woman—probably in “bloomers”—on one of those machines.
But what about the kids?
In the middle of the journey of my life, I am--as always--a woman on a bike. Although I do not know where this road will lead, the way is not lost, for I have arrived here. And I am on my bicycle, again.
I am Justine Valinotti.
We’ve all seen sepia-toned photos of mustachioed, too-hatted men astride “penny-farthing” (high-wheeler) bikes.
You may even have seen an image of a woman—probably in “bloomers”—on one of those machines.
But what about the kids?
Daylight Saving Time began in most of the US today, when 2 am became 3 am. EST.
So…there’s more light at the end of today’s ride!
If “stationary” stores sell pens and other items for writing,
do “stationery” bikes exist only on paper?
(Now that I think of it, a store—at least a physical one—is, by definition, stationary. But can you ride a stationery bike?)
I have never ridden a donkey.
I have, however, cycled in places where people rode both mules and bicycles. The bikes, of course, were strictly utilitarian: You don’t see anything that would be pedaled in the Grand Tours on rural paths in Southern Italy or the Greek Islands.
And I don’t recall seeing anything like this:
You’re a couple of miles (or a few kilometers) from the end of a daylong ride. But every pedal stroke feels like a Herculean effort; every turn of your wheels seems not to move you any closer to home, the finish line or wherever your ride leaves off.
You keep on pedaling and hope for a rush from the energy bar (or other snack) you downed. In the meantime, do you tell yourself, “Hmm…Maybe something is wrong with the bike”?
What keeps you going?
Five weeks—or less—until Spring, depending on whether you believe Phil or Chuck.
Today is Groundhog Day.
According to ancient folklore, if Punxsutawney Phil sees his shadow, six more weeks of winter will follow. If he doesn’t, spring is imminent.
Drumroll…
Six more weeks. Well, that is more or less when Spring Equinox, a.k.a. the “official “ first day of Spring arrives.
Sometimes I think Andy Warhol had Phil in mind when he said that everyone will have 15 minutes of fame.
When I first became a dedicated cyclist, the only “helmets” available were “leather hairnets.”
Has any helmet manufacturer offered a model called “The Hairnet?”
On Tuesday, I expressed the first iota of sympathy I’ve felt in a long time for Lance Armstrong. After all, I can empathize with anyone who’s had bikes stolen.
But it might be the last time I, or very many other people, express compassion for him. He is not the first, and probably won’t be the last, cheater to ride a bike. However, few, if any have done more to disgrace cycling.
On the other hand, a cheetah on a bike? That would be a first. And it certainly wouldn’t soil the reputation of the sport as the one whose seven Tour de France victories were vacated.
Eight years ago, I recalled my comical attempts to sell bicycle safety flags that had been in American Youth Hostels’ storage room for, probably, a decade.
That got me to thinking about how we, as cyclists, can make ourselves more visible to motorists. Perhaps there is no better way than this: