| 07/31/2005 | OK, Lance, time to slow down, enjoy the ride
Cycling for fun can open up vistas that speed obscures.
For Lance Armstrong, being the best bike rider in the world was work. But oh how I envy a guy whose job is to play with a toy.
Next to a baseball mitt, a bike was a kid's best friend when I was growing up. The kids in my neighborhood never left home without their two-wheelers.
After summer baseball games on the dusty elementary school playground in East Irondequoit, we'd mosey over to our bikes like a posse of cowboys climbing into the saddles. Our steeds, often a Schwinn or some other brand, were ready to go when we were, racing off to the local Gulf station for a bottle of Coke from the big red ice chest.
Our bikes were our cars, and in some cases, our only transportation when the parents had the family car - yes as in one family car. Bikes got us to school, the grocery store, the ice cream shop and the barber.
My first serious bike was a red one. It was too big for me. "You'll grow into it," my mother said. I did, but it took a while. The thing was indestructible. Big balloon tires. Sturdy fenders. It was a Hummer by today's standards.
But I wanted something sleeker, faster, cooler. By junior high, I had what was then called an English racer. A three-speed bike with hand brakes and a saddle bag. Crimson with gold trim and a sleek hard seat that made coolness hurt for the first few days I had it. I kept the bike all through high school, using it to deliver papers but then relegating it to the garage once I got my driver's license and leaving it for good when college called.
That was a long time ago, but I still love bikes. I have two, a 17-year-old road bike with only 10 speeds and a new trail bike with 21 speeds. The trail bike gets more use now that I have convinced my wife to get one, too. http://www.stargazettenews.com/apps/pbcs.dll/article?AID=/20050731/COLUMNIST11/507310302
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