I always find it a little disturbing to ride by a church and see the parking lot full on a beautiful Sunday morning. Especially when the church has a really dumb sign out front.
Of course, I've never been a big fan of people behaving so much like sheep that they actually refer to themselves as flocks.
The world is out there waiting to be enjoyed, but church people sit indoors on uncomfortable benches and let clergy spoonfeed them religious propaganda.
I like to think I have my own religion—it's something of a cult, really—and I have no need for ministers, pedophile priests or prudish peers.
I call it the Church of the Triple Chainring.
Services are held every Sunday (weather permitting) with as many bible study sessions as time allows the rest of the week. Sermons consist of whatever is running through your head. All services are held in the world's largest church, which I like to call ... uh ... well, I call it the world. Seating is unlimited, so feel free to arrive a few minutes late. (Just don't complain if we start without you and you have to ride hard to catch up.)
Come on, join us. Take a sip from our vat of Kool-Aid. You'll feel better. We might even save your soul. If not, we'll have a hell of a good time trying.
You can even call me Reverend Tim, if you want to.