fellow funegrans--
on my bike ride this morning, i was struck by something.
not like a water balloon or egg or errant tee shot or anything like that.
rather, i was observing the camaraderie -- or lack thereof -- between cyclists.
you see, this morning i made an effort to connect with every cyclist i passed. i tried to make eye contact. extend a mild wave. curl the edges of my mouth north as to indicate friendship. kindness. a certain esprit de corps on the road.
i got nothing in return.
my offers of goodwill were summarily rejected. in fact, i wasn't even acknowledged. perhaps my fellow cyclists were envious of my unique, if not wholly unorthodox "west coast" spread eagle pedaling motion. or maybe it was my tricked out $199 bike that spawned envy instead of friendship. indeed, a mix of indifference and competitive hosility permeated the toasty texas air this morning. curious.
contrast that with the sheer bonding that takes place when two motorcyclists encounter each other on the road. the universal biker's salute serves as a show of solidarity. a feeling of belonging to some death-defying fraternity. a recognition of a richer way of getting from point a to point b. a wink and a nod to sharing a secret -- that the journey is the destination.
what a shame, then, that the cyclists i encountered today would view riding their bike as a chore. a task to be crossed off the daily to-do list. a joyless exercise that ignores the fresh air and surroundings whereas motorcycling is a thrill to be savored. a sensory explosion that gives life.
at least my observations about cyclists myopically focused on fitness are consistent with the odd looks i get when i wink and wave at my fellow gym members as they complete a set of 8 squats or a few pull-ups.
if only i could train for skiing atop a harley.
chile or bust, brothers.
