A Color Of My Ride

As much as I love riding along the sea, I have to admit that the sight of the waters around here leave me pining for those almost preternaturally azure waves around the Milos and Santorini.  

I don't know whether the waters were, or ever could be, so blue around New York.  But I rather liked what I saw on my Point Lookout ride the other day:

The water reflected the moss on the rocks. Or was it the other way around?

A Leg To Ride On

I, like many longtime New Yorkers, recall Dexter Benjamin.  Even if we didn't know him by name, we knew who he was because there wasn't anyone else like him.

He was The One-Legged Bicycle Messenger.  His fixed-gear bike had its drivetrain on the left side rather than the right.  And it was fitted with carrying hooks and straps to hold his crutch on the top tube.

I haven't seen or heard about him in some time.  What got me to thinking about him was a story I came across yesterday.

Leo Rodgers stops for a snack during a ride.

Like Dexter Benjamin, Leo Rodgers lost his leg in a horrific, non-cycling-related accident.  Rodgers, however, lost his left leg, so the only modification to his All City bike was the removal of the left (non-drive-side) crank and pedal.  And he didn't become a messenger in New York.  Rather, he works in a posh Florida bike shop and rides with a club.

One thing Benjamin and Rodgers have in common, though, is their fearlessness.  If you're a messenger in Manhattan, you are, by definition, riding with abandon.  Rodgers, on the other hand, rides with no constraints because, well, he can.  

Oh, one other thing they have in common:  They're inspirations.  More than a few people have said as much.  Not only do both riders cause people to realize that their barriers to whatever they want to do are comparatively small; they also have helped people get over their fears--on Manhattan's streets and along Florida's roads, where more cyclists are killed than anywhere else in the US.

The next time I think I can't do something, I won't have a leg to stand on.  I do, however, still have two legs that can spin pedals!

 

Don't Try This At Home--Or Anywhere Else!

'Some of us, when we're young, think we can do absolutely anything, no matter how dangerous or ridiculous, off or on the bike.

Probably the last really crazy thing I would have done was to ride my Bontrager mountain bike (with a Rock Shox yellow Judy fork, no rear suspension) down the stairs from the Sacre-Couer de Montmartre.  

What stopped me? Actually, the question is "who"?  Tammy said she didn't doubt I could do it, but juuust in case, she wouldn't know what to do because she couldn't speak French.  I taught her a few useful pharases:  "Au secours!"  "Mon copain est tombe." (I realize now that the gendarmes would probably think, "Son copain est fou." )  She learned quickly; she was fluent in Spanish.

Sometimes I wonder what would have happened had I taken that ride.  Would she have broken up with me the moment I began my descent?  I didn't want that:  Who goes to Paris to have their heart broken?

These days, I admit, I'm not quite as daring.  And if I were counseling young people, there are some things I would advise them never, never to do on a bike: