Redartz: As we prepare to undertake another week's discussion, once again some thank you credits are due. In this case, the kudos go to HB, for prompting the idea for this topic in a recent comment. Well done, sir; it sure helps to have so many sources for inspiration when it comes to ideas for a post! And now, onward...
I'd bet a cold Dr. Pepper that most every one of us had some similar experiences, cruising the streets and trails on our Shwinn's and Huffy's in search of adventure, comics, or bottles to cash in. So now we get to revisit those heady days of speed, comradeship, and the occasional mean, chasing dog..
My adventuring days began once my parents finally lifted my range restrictions. For seeming eons, I was limited to riding from one end our our (rather lengthy) suburban street to the other end. But when they released me to the streets, I was off. My friends and I would ride to the drug store (for the obvious usuals: comics, baseball cards, candy bars or a Coke). We'd ride from one kid's house to another to another. We'd ride to school every now and then, passing on the normal daily bus ride.
In our neighborhood we had access to a great patch of woods along a river, winding to a gravel pit in one direction and downtown in the other. We would drag our bikes down to that trail along the river and ride over roots and rocks.
Our trail (on foot here, but you get the idea)
And this was years before anyone heard about 'mountain bikes'. It was especially cool to ride towards downtown, as you'd pass by a city park along the river; a perfect place to park the bikes for a rest and go hit the swings. It was even better if you'd packed a lunch ; that made for an epic summer afternoon. lying by the river, watching the sun glisten off the ripples (and off your shiny handlebars), enjoying the breeze, and 'shooting the breeze' with your pals.
My longest ride was with a good friend who lived in the next town. One Saturday morning we took off riding (his Dad was kind enough to cram my bike in their trunk when he picked me up for an overnight visit). We rode out of town, out into the country, and down one County road after another; just exploring, talking, and following nothing in particular. Eventually we made our way back into town, but only after my little mileage meter showed about 25 miles had expired. Looking back, I realize that there's really no better way to wander than on two wheels. Fast enough to actually get somewhere, but slow enough that you genuinely see your surroundings, feel the roadway and the grass, hear the birds. A road trip in a car takes you much farther, but keeps you insulated from that whole world out there.
But enough mental meanderings from me. What tales do you have of a bike, a buddy and a bit of road?
