Rubes** the Road bike!
Guys, I love my road bike.
Head-over-heels in love.
I finally got this beauty after like SEVEN years of dreaming. I've always wanted to be a cyclist. I would watch those awesome groups of cyclists zoom by in their colorful spandex and I wanted to be just like them. Ruby and I, we've cycled together about 100 miles so far. It's been a beautiful ride, this past week. I'm so excited for all the rides to come--I LOVE my pretty lil' bike.
Growing up, some of my most cherished experiences involved my bikes, or some other form of wheels. I remember the day my poppa brought home my Little Mermaid bike, with teal streamers and training wheels. I loved that bike! But when I outgrew it, I moved up to a red mountain bike we got at Goodwill. I lived on the back of that bike for a long time. It had terrible pedals, all stripped and falling off, but I loved it. It was my way to freedom! As I entered middle school and gained a sense of independence, I would cruise all over town on my mountain bike. I would explore the back roads, every neighborhood, and all the hidden crevices of Escondido. I also remember bike rides with my step-dad; Once, I slid on loose gravel while turning too sharply and ate dust (and skinned my face). I'd also ask him excessively, "What's our speed? How fast are we going?!" Even then, I loved the feeling of flying free on the back of a bicycle. In my young years of biking, I learned (the hard way) to not use the front brakes, for fear of flying over the handlebars and landing straight on my helmeted-head (yes, this has happened more than once, unfortunately.) One last bike memory. . . . I remember visiting family in Temecula, and riding/sliding down big dirt hills. Maybe I was a reckless child, who knows, but once again, I slid down the hill on my face rather than the bike. Oh biking. . .
When my previous bike got stolen while I was at work, it felt like someone had stolen one of my legs. One of my lungs. A ginormous chunk of my heart. My bike was not only my major mode of transport, but also my way to liberating freedom and daring adventure! When I lost my other bike, I felt separated from the beautiful outdoors that I love! But this past week, with the arrival of Rubes, I feel like I have my wings again. I can get out, explore, push my limits, fly like a free bird! I just really, really love my bike. Everyday is a marvelous adventure with a bike.
Here's to lots more miles, and a big hoorah to health!
**her name has since been changed to Rubella.
Head-over-heels in love.
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| Pleased to meet ya, Rubes**:) This photo was taken after our first official ride together, on a very rainy and hail-y day! It was great :) |
Growing up, some of my most cherished experiences involved my bikes, or some other form of wheels. I remember the day my poppa brought home my Little Mermaid bike, with teal streamers and training wheels. I loved that bike! But when I outgrew it, I moved up to a red mountain bike we got at Goodwill. I lived on the back of that bike for a long time. It had terrible pedals, all stripped and falling off, but I loved it. It was my way to freedom! As I entered middle school and gained a sense of independence, I would cruise all over town on my mountain bike. I would explore the back roads, every neighborhood, and all the hidden crevices of Escondido. I also remember bike rides with my step-dad; Once, I slid on loose gravel while turning too sharply and ate dust (and skinned my face). I'd also ask him excessively, "What's our speed? How fast are we going?!" Even then, I loved the feeling of flying free on the back of a bicycle. In my young years of biking, I learned (the hard way) to not use the front brakes, for fear of flying over the handlebars and landing straight on my helmeted-head (yes, this has happened more than once, unfortunately.) One last bike memory. . . . I remember visiting family in Temecula, and riding/sliding down big dirt hills. Maybe I was a reckless child, who knows, but once again, I slid down the hill on my face rather than the bike. Oh biking. . .
When my previous bike got stolen while I was at work, it felt like someone had stolen one of my legs. One of my lungs. A ginormous chunk of my heart. My bike was not only my major mode of transport, but also my way to liberating freedom and daring adventure! When I lost my other bike, I felt separated from the beautiful outdoors that I love! But this past week, with the arrival of Rubes, I feel like I have my wings again. I can get out, explore, push my limits, fly like a free bird! I just really, really love my bike. Everyday is a marvelous adventure with a bike.
Here's to lots more miles, and a big hoorah to health!
**her name has since been changed to Rubella.
The moment the love began!!! I'm having some fun here reading your blog. You're such a good writer!
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