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A Man, Obsessed
June 25, 2008
I am completely obsessed with riding my bike. And anything bike related. I'll spend hours looking at baskets and gizmos to affix to my ride. Bags, top tube covers, saddles, whatever. What's the temperature outside and how long will it take to warm up enough to avoid wearing a jacket? If you've ever been to a hardware store with me, you know how mesmerized I can get. Bike shops are the new hardware store. I just want to look at it.
The amount that I've been able to ride this warm-weather season has made me very happy, but it's still never long, or far, enough. Commuting on bike beats anything, hands down. Pedestrians are clueless; cars are for suckers. This is the kind of thought pattern that enters your mind when cycling through downtown. I'm not saying that it's necessarily true, it's just an example of the shift in perception that goes on when you hop on a bike. Bike Bike bikety bike bike. Bike bike bikey bike bike.
There are times in the morning, while riding along the waterfront, that the air smells just like Fishers Landing. This means nothing to you, and for that I am sorry. Pancakes and the remnants of cigarette smoke are about the closest things I can use to describe it. It's a nostalgia thing. Camping as a kid.
Sometimes on my way home, I catch a glimpse of the water towers near my house while riding along Alaskan Way South. 520 feet in elevation, and there I am at sea level. Next thing I know, I'm ready to climb that last hill home and I catch myself thinking, "How'd I get up here, goddamit?" (I guess I'll slide down now, weeeeeee!)
I've climbed some mean-ass hills in my neighborhood; such is life when you don't live in Ballard (ooooohh!). I can't say I exactly enjoy it, though I will say that there is a huge positive that results from conquering a big one: No boundaries. Or at least, less boundaries. I'll avoid hills if possible, but I also know that they won't stand in the way of getting to a destination.
See? This is about all my brain has time for at the moment. I could talk about work...nope, can't really talk about work unless you sign an NDA. I could talk about my house. We're getting windows installed, you know, the kind that open and let air in? That's not exciting for you, is it? And so you get bikes, maybe something else when I'm feeling frisky.
Posted by Aaron on June 25, 2008 01:14 PM| Permalink