A DIFFERENT KIND OF BIKE

 …or is it the same?

 

So I went in for my annual physical  and my doctor said, “You should look at losing ten pounds.”   Immediately, the choice was clear: Either exercise more (in my case, exercise at all) or get a new doctor.

 

 

Back in the 70s, I bought myself the ultimate ten speed bicycle: a lovely black Peugeot with a lightweight frame, gum wall tires and drop handlebars.  A real looker!  The envy of the velo crowd before there was a velo crowd.  Except for a short period when it lived in my brother’s barn, I’ve had the beauty the whole time.  

         A couple of years ago, I decided to use the old Peugeot as a means of developing some stamina and toning some muscles, but the drop handle bars and the out-of-sync derailleur made riding the classic a pain in my butt, as did the narrow seat.  So into the garage it went.  Its new mission was to simply gather dust.

         Fast forward to the other day after that consult with the doc. I resolved to get back on the French masterpiece and crank through the neighborhood until my thighs burned.  Problem number one was that the front tire no longer held air.  Problem two was that damned seat and the race-mentality geometry.  

         A viable alternative would be the gym.

         Working on the stationary bike there, ten minutes was about all I could take.  Not of the exercise.  Of Fox and Friends. (Actually, any news/talk yammering, for that matter.)  I quit attending the gym knowing definitively that the only available option left for my particular circumstance was: Get a new doctor.

 

 

About 100 years ago, I pedaled from home to Rosedale School along a winding road that traced a creek.  My mode of transportation was a Schwinn “Racer” with a three-speed Sturmey-Archer shift mechanism buried in the rear hub.  

Dad had one of these bikes, also, and so did brother Beebo.  Not cool or sexy, the seating was upright and I never got a crick in my neck trying to look forward while bending over swooped-down handlebars.  The bike was perfect for that commute to school or a casual ride through Bidwell Park or out to the Sacramento River.  But I had to improve on perfection and after a succession of two wheelers, I ended up with the Peugeot.

         The old ten speed served me well.  Fast.  Elegant. Relatively light.  For some reason, however, I gave up using it regularly.  Perhaps this had something to do with a yellow Honda Trail 90 motorbike.

 

 

The bicycle vs new doctor set of options was not the full set of options.  A bike better suited to my aging, 70-plus-year-old frame might be a good choice.  Better scenery than Fox and Friends.  Fresher air than the gym.  And, frankly, I like my doctor.

         I settled upon a bike that seems a throwback to that Schwinn Racer of yore.  An Electra ‘Loft’ built by Trek. Upright, comfortable seating.  Chain guard for the trouser legs.  And fenders!  I actually rode home from the shop in the rain!  And, although color doesn’t much matter to me, a gorgeous hue that is quite reminiscent of Moto Guzzi’s signature Tenni Green found on their mythical motorcycles of decades past.  

         Two minutes of test riding and the thing was mine.  I’ve been out on it all four days since I purchased it (except one.) First ride was about ten minutes.  Second one, too.  Today?  20.  Around the ‘hood and down the block to another ‘hood.  Tomorrow?  Who knows?  The sky’s the limit!  (No, it’s not. Get real!)

 

 

I have only two resolutions for 2024.  Ride that bicycle for thirty minutes four to five times a week and read one book per week to work on one of my other weaknesses: literateness.  It is now the second week of 2024 and I’m halfway through my first book.

         Wish me luck.

© 2024

Church of the Open Road Press