The big Fuller Center Spring Bicycle Adventure begins with
orientation on Saturday, and we ride out of Nashville toward Jackson
on Sunday. In anticipation of spending a few hours on a bike over
the course of a week, I started thinking about all the bikes I've
ridden.
1) I remember
seeing a photo of me on a little (probably red) tricycle, but I don't
actually remember that one. I may have had another bike or two when
I was very young ~ if so, that's lost to my memory.
2) The next one I
remember is a single speed, bmx-style bike with coaster brakes. I
rode that one around and around on the gravel road on the property
where we lived. On that bike, I learned to ride a wheelie, 'peel
out', and lock the brakes in a long skid.
One day, I tried a
big jump of a little hill. The jump was great. The landing,
however, found me on my butt on a flat slab of rock immediately
before the bike found itself on my head. Fifteen stitches later and
a few weeks of healing later, I was back at it. I believe the scars
are still visible.
I rode that bike
from the time it fit me 'til I had extended the saddle too far out of
the seat tube that it bent backward. Before long, my butt was only a
few inches above the rear wheel ~ before long, it was time for a
different bike.
3) I was jealous
of my friends who had bikes with gears that they could change. One
Christmas, I'm sure after my parents got sick of me incessantly
bugging them about it, I came out to find a shiny new 10-speed ready
for me to ride. I learned to shift gears, work the brakes with my
hands, and manage a much higher center of gravity.
4) I rode that one
around for a while, until I outgrew it ~ but I still wanted to ride.
I wanted to ride like Connie Carpenter, who had just won the Olympic
women's road race. My dad knew a guy who spent a lot of time
cycling, and who was willing to sell us a road bike that he had
rebuilt. It had good components, was in good condition, and had a
very cool paint job. While most bikes are smooth and shiny, this one
was textured and painted matte black. Of course, I was a growing
teenager and couldn't ride that one forever.
5) I inherited the
bike my dad was riding, got geared up with a Campagnolo cycling hat,
padded gloves, and cleated shoes. I was big-time, riding miles up
and down the country roads. I kept that bike for years, riding it
regularly in high school and occasionally in college.
It was on this
bike that I began to discover the wonder of the freedom of urban
cycling. I rode around San Antonio some, one summer evening
listening to a free Stray Cats concert for a while before riding
around again on empty downtown streets.
6) I still rode
that yellow bike in seminary, but discovered that it was inadequate
for singletrack mountain biking. There was a bike shop about a mile
from my apartment, though, that was happy to sell me a relatively
inexpensive mountain bike. I took a couple months getting that bike
set up exactly like I wanted it. It worked well on mountain trails,
and it worked well as a commuter bike. The yellow one didn't get
much use any more.
Both the mountain
bike and the yellow road bike moved with me to California; but
neither got much use. After a couple months, we moved from a
terrible apartment to a lovely little cottage. However, there was
very little room in that cottage for two bikes that didn't get used.
I put the yellow bike outside, and within about 5 minutes, it made
its way down the street with someone who would get more use out of it
than I was at the time.
I rode the
mountain bike as a commuter vehicle while we were in Eugene, OR. I
rode it to the nursing home where I was a chaplain, and later I rode
it to the group home where I worked between internship and my first
call as a pastor. And when we moved to Longmont, CO, with only one
car, I rode that bike as a commuter vehicle.
That's enough for
one blog post ~ I'll put the rest of the bikes up later.
Let the adventure
continue.
