"This is a beautiful thing here," Pete said as the light turned green.Fifteen or so rain-splattered mountain bikers rolled across Minnesota Boulevard in the dark and began pedaling east on a side street, moving in that way that only a group of bicycles can: first a large mass, then a morphing, flexing blob that stretches out and reshapes itself in response to the brake lights and headlights of cars. Pete was right. It was beautiful.
It was as if we were holding our own little Critical Mass ride. The drivers were stuck in their metal boxes watching the rain hit their windshields and wondering why a bunch of yahoos were out riding bikes in such cold, sloppy weather. But we were out there feeling the cold raindrops, the warm blood flowing through our legs and the beautiful sensation of rolling on two wheels.
An arrogant Christian, upon hearing that my beliefs differed from hers, once told me she felt sorry for me. Sorry, lady. I don't want or need your sympathy.
Bicycling is my religion.
You want to feel sorry for someone? Feel sorry for someone who doesn't ride.
8 comments:
HEY! Keep the hell outta our hockey rinks, ya hear?!
And what you're doing to your poor daughter...oughta call Social Services. Turnin' her into a bike weirdo, too, I tell ya...
I'm a bicycle religion fanatic myself. In fact, I need to raise $2,000 to build a 29er, or the great bicycle Lord is going to call me back. Dig deep, brother Tim...
Luke, you should know that the bike polo game was the highest purpose that rink had ever served. Every minute we were on it, a few more kids were delayed from a life of thuggery and boorish behavior!
And Jeff, I think two grand is better spent on a new bike for you than an air-conditioned dog house for some televangelist's Chihuaha. Can I get an amen, brothers and sisters?
Forget 2 Grand for a 29er. I need 3.5 Grand for a Fatback. I'll need to pass around the collection plate too. Cycling addiction, it's like having a mistress, if you want a good "ride" now and then you need to keep throwing money at 'em.
And speaking of religion and cycling, or is that the religion of cycling. It was about 10 years ago while commuting home in the middle of February and the lit up sign at the tourist trap at the corner of Tudor and Old Seward Hwy is flashing -10 that I had this great epiphany. And that was, that at 5:30pm I was the only person at this whole intersection that was really alive. Everyone that was sitting comfy in their metal cans were completely out of touch with reality. It made feel so alive to note that the drivers were probably wearing more clothes than I was, but I was no doubt the warmest person sitting there waiting for the light to change.
Grill Meister
Speakin' the truth! Amen brother Kelly!
Is that bike polo on ice?! Or just a foot-down?
Looks wicked cold either way!
Nah, Jes, we're not crazy enough to play polo on ice. But we will be racing criteriums on it later.
The night that shot was taken, we were playing on wet asphalt -- we were on an outdoor hockey rink while playing in the rain.
I won't give you an "ay-men." Instead I'll give you a "chain-lube." Freedom of religion also means freedom from religion. Rock hard, ride free.
Post a Comment