Biking stories

Today, I’m out for a ride on my favorite circuit of the year — Colonie Town Park, bike path through Niskayuna to Aqueduct, and back through Vischer’s Ferry on the River Road, followed by a long but surprisingly pleasant uphill from the river back to the park. Done that way, just about 47K, and there are some easy sidetracks to take as well.

So I’m going full out on a beautiful flat and in my rearview I see something I just don’t ever see — another cyclist, gaining on me. Fast. Annoyingly fast. And then this guy, on a nice expensive Cannondale, pulls up right alongside me (while I’m out on my twitch bars, not a real safe position for riding next to someone) and starts up a conversation. Which is fine, though I’m not the chatty type and I am, of course, pissed that he could catch me that easily. So we chat for a bit and then he drops back to wait for his friends, whom I can see coming up in the mirror. A pack of riders, all on top gear, all tanned and shaved and obviously with more miles under their legs than I have. They’re behind me for a while and of course, being a man, I’m pouring it on to keep up my lead. But, they are a pack and a pack can always overtake a single rider, and they decide to make their move just as we get to an uphill. They come by and just about pass me on the way up the hill, fanning out into the road in the way that reminds me why I don’t ride with packs, and as they hit the pitch, two of them shift their gears under pressure and lock up their chains. I couldn’t have been more tickled. I may be less fit, less tan, and less rich, but at least I didn’t make an embarrassing mistake while I was trying to show off my prowess. (Hey, I take my consolation where I can get it.)

Spouse was absolutely tickled to learn something I thought that everyone knew — that motorists often slow down and pace your bike to figure out how fast you’re going. They sit back in your blind spot, right off the back wheel, and creep along with you. If they’re being especially helpful, they shout out your speed to you (which is of course apparent because you have a f’ing computer and don’t really need a pace car spewing fumes to help you out). I do prefer it to when they fling bottles and trash, but I’d really just prefer they go by me. Apparently this was just about the funniest thing she’d heard in ages, right up there with mini-Belzer.