Bicycle

I love bicycles.  My first job was at a bicycle shop.  I came into possession of a bike about a month ago that I really like.  When I got it, the tires were flat and the bike was filthy, but I worked on it, and resurrected it.  The other day we went for our first ride.

My son has disassembled our air compressor, so I am unable to fill the tires with air.  They are a little low, but I decide to make a go of it.

Up the driveway, up the hill.  Turn right.  Along the flat, turn left, past the pool to the top of the hill.  I am already winded, and my calves are burning.  I am in terrible shape.  Right turn onto the Northgate loop.  Up and down.  I don't remember there being hills here, but on a bicycle, you feel every one.  Coasting now towards the clubhouse, I see four people hitting balls on the driving range.

Swoosh.  Bash.  Ouch.  What is that.  One of the players has sliced a ball and it took one hop on the street and hit me in the chest.  No one even said fore.  I wanted to say something back, but I restrained myself.

Up around the bend.  Past the little park.  Past Ash Grove.  Down the hill into farmville.  I am riding on Maybrook road.  Across the wooden bridge.  I am feeling pretty good.  Misty Meadow.  Behind the school.  Anderson, Emerald and now the big hill.  Maybe the biggest hill around.  I am determined to make it all the way up to the top.

I am tired.  My tires are almost flat.  I am 54 years old.  Then disaster.  I can't get the bike to shift into the low gear on the front sprocket.  I make it most of the way.  Then I have to stop.  I walk to the top.  It was the right thing to do.

My legs are wobbly.  I coast the rest of the way home.  My wife laughs at me.  What is that about?  Tomorrow, if I can walk, I am going to try it again.  If any golfer tells you a story about hitting an old guy on a bicycle, I would like to have their name.

It's a beautiful day in God's world, be sure to see the good.