Stop and Run Over the Roses

Our hero lifts Blackbird from the rack on the car. Before climbing aboard for the inaugural outing of 2007 at the Proving Grounds (aka Creve Coeur Lake), he goes through the usual checklist:

• Helmet, gloves, sunglasses, suncreen: check.


• Goal visualization: check. A recovery ride after the 1/2 marathon.


• Strategy: check. Maintain moderate heart-rate, RPM, and speed.

Walking his bike to the trail, he begins to spot the traffic on the path, mechanically looking for openings, holes, passing lanes. With the cool calculation, he prepares to go hybrid and become a part of a semi-organic, man-machine velocitizer.

Then, with teeth gritted, he pauses. It's a nice day: 80 F and sunny. Everyone on the path is happy. New parents walk behind strollers. Children laugh and play; some are on bicycles for the first time. Dogs bark joyfully. An old crop-duster biplane lazily banks over the lake, the throaty drone of its engine bouncing off of the calm water. Kites fly in the distance.

Our hero's grimace morphs into a smile. It's the first bike ride of the season! A true sign of spring. A new start and a throwback to the salad days of youth. He takes his mental checklist, crumples it up, and tosses it aside. Let's ride!

ps. Moments later, our hero cruises along the path. Without hesitation, he lets go of the handlebars and throws his weight onto the aerobars, assuming the classic tri position. Unfortunately, his prefrontal cortex is not yet in shape, and he and Blackbird wobble dramatically, veering off the path onto the dirt and through some flora. They narrowly miss a park bench, and certain injury, before regaining balance and riding back onto the path. Passers-by find this manuveure to be rather humourous.