Found Her Mate!
Some people notice cars.
Some watch birds.
I pay attention to bikes.
When a car flys by on the Highway, I'll speed up to see what bikes are on the roof rack. I check out the frames on bike trails. Bike Races.
I dont know if it's still the practice, but TREK would release it's bicycles in a color that was specific to the year and the configuration. I've seen 20 Trek 1000's of the same vintage and a dozen 1200's. I've seen 2 1420's, but in 15 years I've never seen another 1991 Trek 1400, in fact it's a pretty rare bike in any year. (the newer 1400's are Carbon and I dont consider them in the same lineage as these Aluminum frames.)
So yesterday, I am CRANKING my ass out of Philadelphia and into the headwinds of a coming storm. I see a bike that looks a hell of alot like mine 8 or 9 cars up. I catch the guy by the next light, and wow! It's the same freaking bike!
How does something so stupid make my whole week??????
UPDATED FOR BERT BANANAS
As my wife will testify from many years of agrivated observance, I dont talk to or meet new people very well, in fact it scares the shit out of me. The fact that I was so moved as to say anything to this guy was it's own miracle that will soon be recognized with a Federal Holiday.
Because I start out in Center City, the first twenty minutes of my ride home are the most hectic as there is no time to warm up. I have to sprint as soon as the first light turns green. At 5:30 the road is radiating all of the heat it collected that day with the mixing car/bus exhausts it just feels like there is no oxygen to be had. Being a fatass doesnt help either.
Like a Neanderthal marveling at the caves of Lascoux, I point a wet arm at his bike frame.
"SWEET" I say.
He's about my age but instead of biking clothes he is in just shorts and a t-shirt. He looks at my frame and is visibly shocked (and out of breathe as well).
"WHOA!"
"1991?"
"YEAH"
The light turned green and I went as fast as possible to stay ahead of the SEPTA bus that was trying to kill me. He must have stopped or turned.
I often think about that day (ok it was yesterday) and wish I had said something more, but I'm not really what more communication would have been possible other than "UGHHH"
Some watch birds.
I pay attention to bikes.
When a car flys by on the Highway, I'll speed up to see what bikes are on the roof rack. I check out the frames on bike trails. Bike Races.
I dont know if it's still the practice, but TREK would release it's bicycles in a color that was specific to the year and the configuration. I've seen 20 Trek 1000's of the same vintage and a dozen 1200's. I've seen 2 1420's, but in 15 years I've never seen another 1991 Trek 1400, in fact it's a pretty rare bike in any year. (the newer 1400's are Carbon and I dont consider them in the same lineage as these Aluminum frames.)
So yesterday, I am CRANKING my ass out of Philadelphia and into the headwinds of a coming storm. I see a bike that looks a hell of alot like mine 8 or 9 cars up. I catch the guy by the next light, and wow! It's the same freaking bike!
How does something so stupid make my whole week??????
UPDATED FOR BERT BANANAS
As my wife will testify from many years of agrivated observance, I dont talk to or meet new people very well, in fact it scares the shit out of me. The fact that I was so moved as to say anything to this guy was it's own miracle that will soon be recognized with a Federal Holiday.
Because I start out in Center City, the first twenty minutes of my ride home are the most hectic as there is no time to warm up. I have to sprint as soon as the first light turns green. At 5:30 the road is radiating all of the heat it collected that day with the mixing car/bus exhausts it just feels like there is no oxygen to be had. Being a fatass doesnt help either.
Like a Neanderthal marveling at the caves of Lascoux, I point a wet arm at his bike frame.
"SWEET" I say.
He's about my age but instead of biking clothes he is in just shorts and a t-shirt. He looks at my frame and is visibly shocked (and out of breathe as well).
"WHOA!"
"1991?"
"YEAH"
The light turned green and I went as fast as possible to stay ahead of the SEPTA bus that was trying to kill me. He must have stopped or turned.
I often think about that day (ok it was yesterday) and wish I had said something more, but I'm not really what more communication would have been possible other than "UGHHH"
4 comments:
Leave us hanging, why don't you!
What happened next? And please, don't tell me that you and the other rider locked eyes...
Maybe your paths will cross again some day. Sigh.
It was like Kismet. Only without the Kis or the met.
I was moved . . .
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