Short rides this week. A couple of test rides, too. (Once you assemble them, you have to test them out.)
Today’s spin is on a bicycle unlike any in my stable: the Specialized Roll.
(Just noticed my friend Kate has a photo of her new low-stepover Roll on her Facebook page.)
Wide tires, wide seat, pedal-forward design, BMX-inspired bars, disc brakes and valve caps that signal low inflation.
Great grab-n-go bike.
Which is exactly what I did.
Rollin’, rollin’, rollin’…
That’s one reason I call this website 16incheswestofpeoria.
Calling it bluebobthebellbottomedbananaboy would have been confusing.
Today’s ride: On the Rock Island Greenway, just south of Bicycle Safety Town.
And back to the shop.
Lunch break. Quick spin down the Greenway and return on Heading.
Bike. Coffee. Blue skies.
As Phil Connors would say, a pretty good day.
Even without the sea otters.
It’s amazing what people can do when they decide it’s the right thing to do.
Think about the transcontinental railroad, Hoover Dam, the Marshall Plan, the Apollo program.
Think about Chicago building a tunnel two miles out into Lake Michigan to bring clean water to a polluted city.
Think about the margarita. (It’s delicious.)
Now think about what we absolutely can’t do.
Levitate. Turn lead paint into gold faucets. Argue Arizona statehood with Elmo in a strip club.
Elmo LIKE Sheriff Arapio.
And, of course, how we can’t fix a washed-out public right of way in central Illinois.
It’s been, what, two or three years since you could walk or ride a bicycle on the Rock Island Trail from Princeville to Wyoming?
Elmo LIKE linear nature of time.
This isn’t a closed trail. This is what 21st-century learned helplessness looks like.
Welcome to the state of Illinois.
Elmo LIKE Iowa.
Light on a pole. West of Chillicothe on Cloverdale Road.
While drinking by the blanciest of casas blanca, this conversation:
Rick: We’ll always have the wind. Maybe not tomorrow or next week, but whenever we ride.
Ilsa: Yes, the wind. And in the mornings, perhaps less of it.
Rick: You’re getting on that bike with zip ties where you belong.
Ilsa: And you, Rick…
Ilsa: Try to keep up.
That lowly braggart, that big ol’ ball of flames, did promise fair chase this day, but as his want this April, abandoned the chase well before the climb past the lilacs on Santa Fe Road.