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Pangloss62 · 06-29-2006, 03:18 PM

Nothing better than the biking life. As a kid, bikes were my best friends. I remember them all. My first was a Schwinn Sting Ray. My friends and I would spend hours and days taking bikes apart, putting them back together, switching handlebars, adding extenstions to the forks, etc.

Then in 1986 I became a bike messenger in Boston. I actually used a Raleigh 3-speed my first few months, but moved up to a Specialized Rockhopper shortly thereafter. I lived 17 miles from Boston in Natick, MA, so with the round trip commute and the daily deliveries, I was riding a whole bunch. Then I took a solo trip from Boston to Toronto on the same bike; kinda heavy, but I liked its durability, and when I camped at night I could ride in the woods. When I returned, I was tired of the messenger job, so I traded my job for my best biking friend's job at a print shop. Me and this guy would ride centuries on our mountain bikes, screw hex-head screws into our Ground Control tires to ride on frozen lakes, and do insanely stoned night rides into the wee hours. This guy, Scottie Roberts, died from hitting his head on a curb one night; he had a bunch of champagne and was baked, but I truly think he musta hit some rock or other object in the road. I remember I had taken the most recent picture of him, so they put it on his casket. It was him and his bike. They were inseperable, like I became with mine. Scott's dad gave me the bike he died on, a nice custom mountain bike made by Fat Chance in Sommerville, MA. I sold it back to the company and bought a nice road bike with Columbus tubing and a mixture of Campy and Shimano 600. Then I REALLY started riding, making sure to do at least 200 miles a week with some good hill grinds and sprints to boot. I raced on Sundays at these dangerous criteriums, and did the Wednesday time trials in Maynard, MA. Never joined a team, however. I went to college, got married, and moved to Chicago, so the biking slowed down a lot; but I kept in the saddle. Now that I live in Atlanta, the city that is rated the worst for cyclists in the whole nation, I just don't ride that much anymore. But reading this thread makes me want to start again. At my peak I was so slim, so fit, so full of energy; I could eat any amount of anything and not gain weight. I took a lot of pride in my cycling. Now I feel I let myself down.

So thanks for the inspiration, people.

06-29-2006, 03:18 PM	#306
Pangloss62 Lecturer Join Date: May 2006 Location: Atlanta Posts: 768	Nothing better than the biking life. As a kid, bikes were my best friends. I remember them all. My first was a Schwinn Sting Ray. My friends and I would spend hours and days taking bikes apart, putting them back together, switching handlebars, adding extenstions to the forks, etc. Then in 1986 I became a bike messenger in Boston. I actually used a Raleigh 3-speed my first few months, but moved up to a Specialized Rockhopper shortly thereafter. I lived 17 miles from Boston in Natick, MA, so with the round trip commute and the daily deliveries, I was riding a whole bunch. Then I took a solo trip from Boston to Toronto on the same bike; kinda heavy, but I liked its durability, and when I camped at night I could ride in the woods. When I returned, I was tired of the messenger job, so I traded my job for my best biking friend's job at a print shop. Me and this guy would ride centuries on our mountain bikes, screw hex-head screws into our Ground Control tires to ride on frozen lakes, and do insanely stoned night rides into the wee hours. This guy, Scottie Roberts, died from hitting his head on a curb one night; he had a bunch of champagne and was baked, but I truly think he musta hit some rock or other object in the road. I remember I had taken the most recent picture of him, so they put it on his casket. It was him and his bike. They were inseperable, like I became with mine. Scott's dad gave me the bike he died on, a nice custom mountain bike made by Fat Chance in Sommerville, MA. I sold it back to the company and bought a nice road bike with Columbus tubing and a mixture of Campy and Shimano 600. Then I REALLY started riding, making sure to do at least 200 miles a week with some good hill grinds and sprints to boot. I raced on Sundays at these dangerous criteriums, and did the Wednesday time trials in Maynard, MA. Never joined a team, however. I went to college, got married, and moved to Chicago, so the biking slowed down a lot; but I kept in the saddle. Now that I live in Atlanta, the city that is rated the worst for cyclists in the whole nation, I just don't ride that much anymore. But reading this thread makes me want to start again. At my peak I was so slim, so fit, so full of energy; I could eat any amount of anything and not gain weight. I took a lot of pride in my cycling. Now I feel I let myself down. So thanks for the inspiration, people. __________________ Things are never as good, or bad, as they seem.