So before this blog post goes Xrated, (IYKYK), Cycling is still one of my favorite things to do. I originally bought a carbon fiber Trek Madone when I got divorced. My ex bought a lady sportster Harley. Many years later, I still log about 200 miles a year on my bicycle. My ex gave her lady sportster to her 70-something dad and he rides it in Vero Beach Florida I have heard ( Don’t tell him it’s a girl’s Harley) Ooops.
Something about being on the road by yourself, getting the heart racing and the blood pumping, is great. The downside is the Masshole drivers’ inability to see a biker on a sunny day, or worse distracted drivers.
Years ago a distracted nanny was in a Honda Odyssey cranking the tunes with some rich ladies’ toddlers in the back when she pulled a right turn in front of me in Wellesley Center. I slammed on the brakes, vaulted my handlebars, and hit the passenger door as the nanny van drove off. She was totally unaware that my body had indented the passenger door.
A passer-by got her plate and she was later arraigned for hit and run. I’ve had other close calls, The bloody crash on the way to Boston Media Makers breakfast, The small kid running and screaming in front of me in Rockport, so many great memories.
The bottom line is I still enjoy it and while I will not be fund-riding anymore ( you cheap bastards) I will still log about 200 miles a summer unless somebody finally does me in.
The Bensleygram 