More Old Stuff

Here's a little ditty that's kind of related to the last story (same bike). This was written in the summer of 2006, right after it happened.

The Birthday Ride
July 21, 2006

As I’m pushing the half-century mark, birthdays are becoming a scary thing for me. Getting older never seems to get any easier, but I’m finding ways to deal with it. I have one birthday tradition that seems to help put things in perspective for me. Every birthday, like many other cyclists, I ride my age in miles; one mile for every year. To increase the challenge and make things more interesting, I’ve also added another twist to it. I now do my birthday ride on a bike that’s the same age as me; a 1959 Schwinn Traveler.

This was the first year I rode the “new” bike, so I wasn’t really sure what to expect. Most of my road bikes fall around the 20 pound mark; this one hit the scales somewhere north of 38 pounds. Riding 47 miles on this beast seemed a little daunting at first, but I figured if I can do 100 miles on a 20 pound bike I should be able to do half that on one weighing twice as much… right? Right or not, I was going to give it a shot.

I headed out a little before 6:00am. The overnight temperature was still hovering around 94F. Picture an old fat guy on an equally old three speed cruiser heading off into the sunrise. I decided my team kit might be a little much for this ride so I opted for black bib-shorts and a plain white jersey instead. I had considered mountain bike shorts, but I knew it was going to be hot, so I went for comfort.

About 5 or 6 miles into the ride the wind started to kick up... a head wind, of course! The first part of the ride contained most of the climbing so I had to do it into the wind; the temps were also rising rapidly as the sun got higher in the sky. I have no bottle holders on the '59 Schwinn, so I went with a Camelbak full of water and one Polar insulated bottle with Gatorade sticking out of my handlebar bag. Lord, I was a sight to behold!

Pushing a 38 pound 3-speed bike around in sweltering heat is no easy task, but I managed to keep a nice pace and only took one 5 minute rest stop at mile 24. My computer started to go a little crazy, dropping in and out, so I couldn't trust it. This meant that I had to stick to my pre-mapped route to insure I got my mileage. That removed my bail-out options to avoid the few hills I faced, but I coped.

I cruised along a nice clip, enjoying the ride much more than I had expected. I was starting to regain some of the joy of my youth, but that was about to change. As I rode west along my route, I was approached from behind by another cyclist. As he over took me he yelled, "GET THAT PIECE OF CRAP ON THE SIDEWALK!"

Let me tell you a little about this guy. He looked to be late twenties to early thirties and was riding a shiny red road bike with late-model 9-speed gearing on it. He was also wearing a brand new Phonak team kit. He hadn't even sweated the creases out of it yet. This was one day after Floyd Landis made his epic ride in the mountains of the 2006 Tour De France. The man stank of "Poser". He pissed off the wrong guy…

It didn't matter to me that I had 32 miles under my belt and was riding a half century old bike that weighed twice as much as his... IT WAS ON!!! I mashed the pedals and quickly closed the gap, jumping onto his back wheel. As we approached the next intersection I saw the walk light change to flashing red; I knew this meant I had 13 seconds before the light turned yellow. Timing my sprint, I shot out from behind him, hit third gear and stood on it! As I blew by I returned the favor and yelled, "GET THAT PIECE OF CRAP ON THE SIDEWALK!" right back at him!

Just as I hit the intersection, the light turned yellow. I dropped back into the seat and looked back over my shoulder. He was about 30 yards back and huffing hard as he jammed the brakes and got caught at the light. I looked at the computer; it showed a maximum speed of 28.3mph... not a bad sprint! I finished my ride with 47.3 miles and a big old grin plastered on my face.

I’m sure that guy doesn’t know it, but he gave me the best birthday present I got this year. I was handed the opportunity to win a little respect for myself and all of old guys out there puttering around on their faithful old steeds. Maybe he learned a lesson, maybe he didn’t, but I’m willing to bet he never forgets our little encounter; I know I never will!

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Note: The best part of this is that I ran into the same guy about six weeks later while riding my vintage Schwinn Paramount racing bike. Needless to say, he was shocked. We had a nice little talk about respecting you elders, then I proceeded to drop him again as I turned and rode up the steepest hill in the area!