I got back on the bike again, after a longer hiatus than I care to admit. It wasn’t much of a ride, just an errand. I had promised Anne that I would pickup some books that she had reserved. She got a job and took the car, leaving me with one of two alternatives: break my promise or ride over to the store. After some hemming and hawing, I chose the later. I pumped up the tires. Yeah, it had been that long. Threw a leg over the bar and off I went. There was some immediate discomfort down below, as I sat on the seat, but it soon passed. I had chosen the right level of dress for the weather, which is always hard to do, not too hot and not too cold. Well really a combination of the two, but it balanced out.
My destination was Left Bank Books. Still thriving, but a relic from the pre-Amazon era, it is arguably the best bookstore in town. On the way over I began doing my sanity check. It was a pleasant enough day that I had no concern that I would make quota. Back when I was still working and riding in the pre-dawn hours before work, I played a little game with myself. If I could count six other cyclist also out riding at that obscene hour, then I wasn’t crazy or at least I had company. I don’t recall how I settle upon six as the magic number. I think that it was the most that I could count, without too much risk of counting someone twice. Anyway, even in winter, on most days I made quota. On those that I didn’t make, made me ask what the heck I was doing out in such weather.
On summer days, especially on the weekend, I hope to make quota even before I get to the park. On this day, which really was quite nice for December, I counted one. I picked up two more in the park, but I was beginning to grow concerned. I got one more in the CWE, where I spied and snapped cycling Santa, outside of Mike’s Bikes. On the way back home, I was getting desperate. There were quite a few electric scooters motoring along and I toyed with the idea of counting them. In the past, I might have included an in-line skater or two. Just as I was preparing to leave the park, two new bikers appeared, giving me my magic number, six. I wasn’t insane! I didn’t have to count scooters. I was left with a question though. Where were the other riders? December days like these are to be cherished and not wasted on other things, like work.