Bicycles | Clothing | Components | Backpacks | Books and Movies | Bottles | Electronics
Glasses | Helmets | Lubes | Nutrition | Pumps | Racks | Safety | Shoes | Skin and Muscle Care | Tools
Trailers | Trainers |Wheels and Tires
Search
rule

Why We Ride:

rule

Why Michel Marcuse Rides


Why Ali Rides


Why Brenna Rides


Why Gary Rides


Why Dan Rides


Why Lisa Rides


Why Carmelita Rides


Why the Editor of Bicycling Magazine Rides


Why Craig Rides



Why Dan rides.

Today, the first glimpse of Spring peered through the gray veil of winter. Winter has been long, somber and cold. Oppressive enough to hold back even the most motivated of cyclists. The winter's residue hangs around my waist and perches itself in my cheekbones. A grayness that for the first time reflects in my eyes is beginning to lift from the hills. As warm orangey sun soaks the Hudson River Valley the flesh tones flow back to my face. The chill wind whistles through my Giro Eclipse as I sail 33MPH into a decent. My bike handling is awkward and my pedal stroke is uneven but 105RPM's never felt so good. Steam blusters from my nostrils at a stop sign as I jump out of the saddle and pound gears back up to speed. I don't care how fast I am going, as long as I feel the half frozen air burning in my lungs.

I decide to go further. Sinking downhill I cross into a valley where the air is colder. The sun is recessed back behind the mountain as it comes closer to setting. I become supremely aware of the roughness of the pavement as I re-learn how to negotiate the potholes that lead to Piermont. Pausing by the Square in town the sun baths me in its mood enhancing warmth. The wind has picked up and I will be climbing back up through the cold valley to get home.

This is what its about. Slowly cruising up back to Nyack, spinning high cadences. Its a long awaited time to meditate. I feel as though I am becoming reacquainted with myself as I go through a myriad of thoughts that have been shelved deep in my subconscious, patiently set aside for that next ride.

Climbing back up into Upper Nyack, the Old Woman with the Mirror is there drawing a drag from her cigarette, pondering whatever she ponders, looking in her mirror. I am glad she is there. For some odd reason I have missed her...

Rolling into my driveway I pay no attention to speed or distances, What does capture my attention is the sunset. I witness the sunset from my handlebars, as it should be...

Why Dan rides.
Why Dan rides.

Today, the first glimpse of Spring peered through the gray veil of winter. Winter has been long, somber and cold. Oppressive enough to hold back even the most motivated of cyclists. The winter's residue hangs around my waist and perches itself in my cheekbones. A grayness that for the first time reflects in my eyes is beginning to lift from the hills. As warm orangey sun soaks the Hudson River Valley the flesh tones flow back to my face. The chill wind whistles through my Giro Eclipse as I sail 33MPH into a decent. My bike handling is awkward and my pedal stroke is uneven but 105RPM's never felt so good. Steam blusters from my nostrils at a stop sign as I jump out of the saddle and pound gears back up to speed. I don't care how fast I am going, as long as I feel the half frozen air burning in my lungs.

I decide to go further. Sinking downhill I cross into a valley where the air is colder. The sun is recessed back behind the mountain as it comes closer to setting. I become supremely aware of the roughness of the pavement as I re-learn how to negotiate the potholes that lead to Piermont. Pausing by the Square in town the sun baths me in its mood enhancing warmth. The wind has picked up and I will be climbing back up through the cold valley to get home.

This is what its about. Slowly cruising up back to Nyack, spinning high cadences. Its a long awaited time to meditate. I feel as though I am becoming reacquainted with myself as I go through a myriad of thoughts that have been shelved deep in my subconscious, patiently set aside for that next ride.

Climbing back up into Upper Nyack, the Old Woman with the Mirror is there drawing a drag from her cigarette, pondering whatever she ponders, looking in her mirror. I am glad she is there. For some odd reason I have missed her...

Rolling into my driveway I pay no attention to speed or distances, What does capture my attention is the sunset. I witness the sunset from my handlebars, as it should be...

Why Dan rides.
Send This Story To a Friend
Your Name:
Friends Email Address:
Your Email Address:
Custom Message:
Banner Ad

Banner Ad