Thursday, July 5, 2012

Late night bike memories

You have been on my mind recently, and no more than last night when I was riding a bike.

Now, mind you, it was just a bike, but it was no normal ride.  Not a fantastic or out of the ordinary ride, but one that took me back to the Summer of Love, late nights, early mornings, battles with Mr. Wind, pre-ordered ambulances, and the deadly sand traps of Provincetown.

I was wearing a pair of crazy multi-colored shorts and a shirt and was heading from my house with a friend to Marlborough Street to watch the fireworks.  He had his bike.  I didn't.  Need I say more?  I took off my shirt and said get on the seat, I'll pump.  He said, "You can't do that, I'm too heavy." And I said, "Get on the seat and watch me."

Though only a short distance up Columbus Avenue with a turn onto Dartmouth and then a swing left onto Marlborough, it was a wonderful trip.  I stood upright and pedaled strongly and smoothly with nary a wobble.  Through the light, around cars, missing pedestrians, applying brakes accordingly so as not to stop, coasting down hill, and knowingly lacing my way to the destination.  Just like you never forget how to ride a bike, you never forget how to ride a bike at night, with a passenger, in shorts and no shirt, only your good eye working, and a big smile on your face.

As my friend complimented me on my biking skills, I said, "You're looking at 50, and that's what 50 does."


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