As part of a group of 4 cyclists on our road bikes, we headed out for a lap of White Rock Lake. Things were going well until I fell off the pace about 3 miles into the ride.
My girlfriend at the time texted asking where I was. I let her know I’d catch up with the group at the end. I took a short cut, taking about 2 miles off the original loop. Imagine my surprise as I rounded the last turn to Alehouse I was passed by the group.
What’s the (explicative) hurry?
I thought we were two couples out for a bike ride? Wow, was I ever wrong.
The other 3 loved to participate in “drop rides.” I view those as “manhood measuring” rides. Whip it out and put a tape on it.
Geez. What the hell is the hurry?
My view of an approach to cycling has changed dramatically since that evening a few years back. The girl is way gone, the other couple rode off at top speed somewhere with a cult of followers and I had some encounters with the ground and some other folks that changed my perception.
Instead of “riding like hell for 50 miles at 20 mph for a beer at the end,” I saw fit to enjoy the journey. Hundreds of murals, dozens of conversations and a few ferry rides later, I discovered (again) that the bicycle is a social device.
Thank you, God. And a few falls. And some sane people.
Relentless
