We all know the love part. The wind, the terrain, the cadence, the sound, the invigoration, the listening of your own heart and lungs pumping (assuming you can hear anything over your iPod) – those are sensations that never get old.
Here is the scene: It’s a beautiful Saturday morning and during a short coastal ride when a dude (on a Felt F1, no less!) rolls past me. “Morning” from me. Not a thing in return. Not a grunt, motion, nod, elbow, hand-still-on-the-bar wave, nothing. Whatever. Hey, maybe he had headphones on, maybe he didn’t hear me. He hits a red light that turns back green just as I roll past him. “Morning.” This time I look over. No headphones. Nada back – straight ahead cold stone stare. Whoa. Because he is going a little faster than me he eventually passes me again. This time I am crystal clear, “Good Morning”. Deadpan straight-up-the-road. I might have just as well been an orange cone. Jeez. Anyway, after peeling off and doing a little loop through HB, Joe Cool is nothing more than a distant memory. That is until, on my way back home, he passes me again. I can’t believe it. 12 inches apart, going no more that 2MPH faster than me, cars whizzing by us on PCH at 50MPH(+) I say “GOOD MORNING” for the 4th time. Not even an “on your left” much less anything civil. Wow. I have to chuckle at this point. Is it because I am on a mere F3? Is it because my legs are hairy? Or, does everybody get this kind of special treatment? Yikes, man – life is too short.
So, to all you roadies who are still wrapped up in this nonsense, take a page from the fat tire playbook. We are all on the same team. And, to the dude on the Felt F1 who is too cool to say howdy, well, you’re not.
Be cool out there!