My History on Two Wheels

I learned to ride a bike 21 years ago. My father does not know how to ride a bicycle or swim, but some how he taught me to do both. After few weeks of attempting to keep my balance my father told me that if I did not learn to ride he would go to my first grade class and tell them of my two wheeled deficiency. I pouted, I stomped, I cried and eventually I stayed in the yard long enough that day to learn.

From age five to age fourteen I had a pure appreciation for the bicycle as a means of transportation. Sure I would ride around in circles in front of the house with my friends, but my bike was the tool that allowed me to chase down the ice cream truck should I miss its siren call. The freedom to pick up and ride across the neighborhood to hang, without asking my Mom to bus me over in the mini van.

At fourteen I shed what I thought was my bicycle husk because my older friends were starting to drive. Skateboarding and cruising around town in a car were the orders of day. That mistake was rectified not three years later in my senior year when I started mountain bike racing. I was introduced to mountain biking by a neighbor and was hooked. Grant and I dawned our spandex and bought intro level hardtails. We raced for almost two years and road single track near every weekend.

Grant eventually lead the charge to what is now the third chapter in my riding story. Road bicycles seemed like a good way to cross train for mountain biking at first but soon became an obsession. Grant sold his first road frame to me (now frankenbike) and got a touring frame. This changed our cycling sense considerably and lead to the formation of pants Richmond (formerly CCP). We made new cycling friends, started touring and some of us started commuting (not me just yet). Cycling is now a way of life not just transportation or a way to get in shape. Although those are nice bonuses.

All this leads to the picture at the top of this post, as it was the inspiration for this light jog down history lane. It is a photo of my grandfather commuting to work that I keep on my night stand. He was a Libyan born Italian teacher turned Governor, once a political prisoner and finally an amazing grandfather. Even though I did not speak the same language as him and grew up in a different country, I like to think that he and I could have enjoyed a bike ride together. I aspire to do as many great things in my life as he did in his and keep this photo next to my bed to remind me of that goal every day.

Peanut Butter and Chocolate
When anime and cycling meet I get a smile on my face!

Site Watch
Fixed Gear Gallery is my daily dose of cycling hardware photography. Pretty pictures from a niche section of cycling that I will never fully appreciate. I like to coast so shoot me!

P.S.
It is Pi Day today, did you grab a slice?