You Can’t Go Home Again

You can’t go home to a trailer park and farm in North Carolina again, not after living the simple bicycling lifestyle in Chicago for three years. It’s not that folks from my hometown read my blog and hate me for portraying them as bumpkins, a modern and predictably crappy remake of Thomas Wolfe, simply that my way of seeing the world has changed dramatically in the past few years.

A Vanity Fair article I read years ago aptly described my military hometown as a mix of strip bars and Baptist churches. Growing up, I itched to get out of my city; it was an ill-fitting sweater that took 16 years to wrestle off, catching my limbs, pulling my nose, tangling my hair and finally releasing me as I gulped for fresh air. My yearnings were basically the cliche teenage feeling that there is a big world going on without me – not a world of parties and glamor, but a world of pedestrians and cafes. I had fantasies of sidewalks, which I knew existed from TV and rare visits to family in Massachusetts, and a hazy idea of “culture” that my city lacked.

Aloha on Wheels

Once upon a time, there was a snazzy blue TopShop cruiser being offered as a contest prize by Chictopia.

The equally stylish Dottie won it by entering this beautiful picture.

Happy Birthday Grams!

It’s my grandmother’s 75th birthday today.

Grams at age 10 with her new Schwinn bicycle (and cat!)

There was hard work to be done on the Wisconsin farm where my grandmother grew up, but as the baby of the family by nearly 10 years, she was doted on — her sister Dorothy even took Grams along on dates to the drive-in.

Grams did let Dorothy ride her Schwinn once — but the story goes that Dorothy was not a very skilled rider and promptly crashed into the merry-go-round their dad had rigged up out of a plank and a wagon wheel. Grams still remembers the scratch it made on the fender.

Gratutitous Friday Kitten Post

Walter reads up on DIY projects on Cycling Is Good For You. He obviously fits right into this household!

Happy Friday!

My First Bike Ride

Biking with my brother over the Fourth reminded me that our first bike rides ever were taken together. The last time I visited my parents, I dug up some photographic evidence.

These Schwinns were our first bikes ever. We got them for our birthdays (both in April — yes, this is what April looks like in northern Minnesota) in 1985. Charlie was turning 4, and I was turning 5. Training wheels were the way to go back then…

Here I am frowning at the handlebars (this bike stuff was serious business) while Mom adjusts Charlie’s bike and Uncle Bob looks on.

Getting to know you...

Meanwhile, Charlie barely fits on his bike! Moments after Mom let go of the handlebars, he was off…and crashed in the woods since he didn’t know how to brake yet. Oops. I think we may have this on video somewhere.

My brother and his first bike.

How old were you when you took your first ride?

New Toys, New Friends

This week brought a couple of changes for me.

I got a rearview mirror for my bike.

I see . . . me!

Still playing with the best way to adjust it, but it’s nice to be able to keep an eye on what’s behind me without turning my head. I got used to this little luxury while riding Oma last month.

Now for the new friend:

Walter "Wally" Kitten

Biking with My Brother

The holiday weekend found me in Indianapolis visiting my brother. On Sunday, we rode the Monon Trail from his neighborhood to downtown, a roundtrip of somewhere around 14 miles. The trail, built along the path of an old railway was beautiful, the snazzy Bianchi bikes we borrowed from a high school friend were nimble, but the best thing about it was spending some time riding bikes with my brother again.

Charlie and me on our borrowed Bianchis.

This is an old favorite hobby of ours, as you can see.

Charlie and me, with our bikes in 1987.

We’re no longer quite so blond, and I no longer carry a groomable dog toy with me when I ride, but other than that, things were pretty much the same as when we used to ride around our neighborhood in Minnesota, or to the convenience store from our house in Alabama: fun!

Exclusive: Grandma Rides a Bike

One of our most loyal readers is my grandma. She lives in Salem, Massachusetts and – to my surprise – bought a folding bike last week. I decided to take this opportunity to learn more about her history with bikes. Without further ado, I present a Let’s Go Ride a Bike exclusive: very special interview with Gram.

Gram Folding Bike - Jahon

What made you decide to buy a bike?

I hadn’t ridden in a long time but you inspired me to start again.

Bikes and Baby Bellies

Warning: this is a total Friday post, with gratuitous cuteness and only a minimal connection to bikes. My next post will be all Batavus, so enjoy the break. :)

I got to see one of my favorite babies on Sunday night. His mom, Ashley, is one of my best friends and put up with me for three whole years while we were in college, so it’s always a treat to catch up with her and her family. Rowan was looking adorable as always, and I got a kick out of his little outfit — Ash knew I’d appreciate it! Anyone have a guess as to what kind of bike Pooh is riding on Rowan’s onesie?

Close up

The whole package!

Happy weekend, everyone!