Bicycle! Bicycle! Making life roll on

I think this was my first 2 wheeler. It was red or some shade of it. It was a rental bike purchased after the summer season. This isn't the bike I learned how to ride a 2 wheeler, that was in Silver Springs, Md (the summer before this photo was snapped) on a Sting Ray with a banana seat.
After I finally learned how to ride without training wheels (9 was considered old), I couldn't get enough of it and loved to do it. I even managed to save up babysitting money in high school, to buy a Peugeot V-9 that eventually got stolen in my 20s. A rash of other bikes that also got stolen. Till finally I became part of the monster of NYC in the 80s and bought a stolen bike at Astor Place. Another Raleigh, a green one and I've had it since 1985. The hub dates it from Nov 1972. It is heavy, hard to pedal and hard to manoeuver in traffic. It has a nice vintage feel, but at this point, I'm over it. I am a middle aged person leaving my old reliable bike for a younger fresher one.
Infidelity, it's not just about men and woman.

This is how my new 'sweet young thing' showed up today. In a box brought by a kindly Fed Ex fellow. Just like you can get a dog, boy friend, shoes, vitamins or a hand bag, I got it over the Internet. It came all the way from San Francisco (a piece of my heart still lingers there) from Public (note name on box). They are quite wonderful, have a great 'bike ethic/philosophy', the kind of thing that flowers well out there in SF. I did a test ride on a 'test bike' at the equally lovely bike store, 'Adeline, Adeline' in Tribeca (who is beginning to carry Public bikes) and fell in love. It was the peppy, ease of handling, the ability to step through vs swing my leg over the back and the color, ORANGE seduced me.

http://publicbikes.com/

It came assembled, except for the handlebars and pedals. Switched out the seat for the Brooks that I had on the Raleigh, attached my basket and voila! It was ready to roll. My first destination was to buy a lock, which set me back a pretty penny, but allegedly the best money (more than I planned) could buy. As I cruised over to the bike store, most people ignored me, but there were a few head turns. While chatting at the HUB (another good bike place) a french couple walked by and the woman swiveled her head and said to her companion (in French) what a nice bicycle, such a belle couleur!) I smiled, heart beating proudly and gave her a thumbs up.

Which leads me to my next transatlantic translation–French conversation classes.
Will report on that after I get going. My class starts this Wednesday. Esperez-a-moi, bon chance! Just so you know, I will be riding my bike to class, weather permitting.

Transatlantic Translation

Last month, (Was it really just last month? It seems like a season ago.) I had a vacation in Europe, beginning with Amsterdam. It was wonderful, all of it, but especially Amsterdam.

Hadn't been there in 20 years, back when the stamps were beautiful and the city was grittier. Now the opposite is true. But the bicycles! The bicycle paths! The traffic patterns! I could wax on and on. Sitting here writing this listening to a Chopin waltz reminds me of the fluidity of cycling in Amsterdam: romantic, precise, a joy. See, I am waxing on....

I felt like I was seeing the city at the perfect angle, speed, height to take in a small antique/modern city that is comfortable like a living room, but filled with busyness and purpose and BICYCLES! The proximity of people in cafés to the street is narrow, but you get a better seat close to the action of people walking their dogs, their children or better yet riding them around in baskets or carts designed for (what else) bicycle transport.

So I returned home (after some more of Europe: Belgium and a bit of France, tbd later) converted, nigh religious fervor and thought, well NYC has bike paths, but with the contentiousness, adolescent arrogance of cyclists being beyond rules, potholes and rogue cars that would rather ignore 2 wheels vs their four. NY is in medieval times for the bicycle renaissance, but I believe, so I will ride. Not that I hadn't, since before high school, but now it is a different conviction. A desire to navigate the city in middle age with wheels to be beyond the pedestrian when I can. Baby boomer logic of fighting age? Perhaps, but that would be a useless discussion, why bother. Just let me pedal and life will take care of itself.

My next post is how I am making the bicycle conversion.