The Alliance night ride was great. I went to Church with Lily and we had a hell of a time. All you Sally’s missed out. It’s interesting how riding at night is completely different. The way we judge distance and how intimately it is connected to space becomes apparent when you can’t see more than five feet in front of you. Throw self-propelled transport on top of that equation and it’s no wonder Einstein thought of relativity while on a bike. After just a few minutes I feel like I’ve been riding for hours and I’m surely not on the trail because I feel as if I’ve gone way too far. After the last few night rides I have learned to somewhat control this feeling, or at least to understand it.

The Tarmac went out for its first ride yesterday. Smooth, fast, effortless, it rides like a dream. Except the whole 11-23 thing, and of course, that is connected to a traditional crankset. I admit I wasn’t ready for that gear ratio when I hit the Gunlock wall. Having the higher gear got me up the hill fast, but I could feel it afterwards.

I need to supplement my last post, “Ride more, Drive less,” with the other interactions that are caused by my pedaling. Wednesday on my way in to work, I counted the casual encounters that I had with people. To and from work, added up to a grand total of seven. Seven people that I interacted with because I pedaled. I would have missed those opportunities had I driven my car. I guess what I’m saying is that although riding tosses me into a coersive relationship with automobiles and a constant battle for space, it also affords me the encounters that make up community, that make me feel alive. The old man who walks his dog every morning in Morning Side Park is a refreshing token of humanity. It also gives me the chance to feel the air, to know it is still chilly in the morning but the bight is gone. Bicycling helps me know that I am a person and that there are other people out there. They are two-wheeled love machines.

Life goes on. Ride it on a bike.