Immediately after hitting the “Fire!” button on yesterday’s rundown of my new Rivendell A. Homer Hilsen I hopped on it for a short ride:
Obviously I’m deep in the throes of what you might call the honeymoon period, but not having worn special bikey clothes or those shoes that click into your pedals and loving every second of it, I have to ask myself whether my Fredly days are numbered.
Realistically, the answer to this rhetorical question is almost certainly, “Nah.” I’ve thought I was done with stupid stuff like one-sided road pedals and racing in the park before, and yet I’ve always returned, as a dog to its vomit. Also, I still love that goddamn Litespeed.
Nevertheless, not only is my roadiedom being undermined by the advent of this exquisite bicycle, but with the racing season now beginning there’s also this whole coronavirus thing, which kinda makes you reconsider the wisdom of paying money to ride through snot rockets for two hours:
Not that there was anything wise about it to begin with.
Ultimately I’m sure I’ll continue to reconcile my love of plainclothes riding with my appreciation for using plastic bicycles as fitness equipment. After all, there’s no wrong way to ride a bicycle.
Oh, who am I kidding? I’ll probably be riding one in 20 years.