Yesterday on my bike ride home I met a guy named Drew. Drew rides his bike to work too. He lives 12 blocks past where I call home.
We’d seen each other in passing many times before, but this time we ended up saying hello. We’re not very similar bike riders, but we traveled together until I reached my apartment.
Drew wears a helmet, but it’s not a normal bike helmet. It’s more of a hybrid between a combat helmet and a hockey helmet. It looks ancient. I don’t wear a helmet at all. I think feeling the wind in your hair is one of the very best parts of riding a bike. Unless I plan on doing stunt work, I’m perfectly willing to take my chances on a bike without a helmet.
I think Drew’s legs move about six times faster than mine do when we travel at the same speed on our bikes. He rubber bands the pant leg near his bike chain and I definitely don’t do that. He has a big orange milk crate attached to the back of his bike, and it’s always empty. He never seems to carry anything on his person, either. I have no devices designed to tote anything around on my bike, but I almost always have a heavy bag on my back while I ride. We both have facial hair.
Isn’t that nice? The ride reminded me of a simpler time when I had no facial hair. A time when I’d bike around my hometown with my friends on a regular basis. I would bike with this one friend, Matt, way more often than anyone else. Sometimes we would bike to school together, but mostly we would ride to our favorite ice cream shop, Magic Fountain. What a great thing to have done. Of course, I use the word “great” to describe the concept of riding a bike and eating ice cream. I’m not so sure going to school fits that description. Anyway, thanks for the memories, Drew.