It seems like just yesterday when I was on my great bicycle adventure pedaling from Oregon to Virginia. In reality it was 1979 . My three friends and I rode up and over the Rocky Mountains. My brain still seems to think it’s 23. My body says otherwise.
Case in point- yesterday I was peddling up a very steep hill in Boston. A bicycle messenger shot past me like he was rocket powered. I thought to myself that’s the way it should be- make way for the next generation.
Though I have to admit I was a little startled when a 97-year-old grandmother on her rusty single speed Huffy zipped passed me saying, “Come on, Sonny, you can do it!”
It was almost more than I could bear when a five-year-old on his Big Wheel pedaled up hill past me grinning like Earnhardt on his victory lap.
I kept at it though. I kept peddling till I finally got to the top of that hill. I wanted to high-five all those folks who left me in their dust. But they were long gone.
Such is life of chubby middle aged bicycler. If you’re lucky, kids, you’ll get here too. Bike on.
Tony Toledo, July 19, 2016