The other woman

Yesterday morning I wouldn't have seen this coming, judging by my ride in, but I do believe there may be another woman in my life - at least in the cycling sense. Just as many male cyclists reading this would probably prefer to think of the vehicle that they straddle every day as being a member of the opposite sex (though not in the 'odd Scottish guy in a hotel room' kind of way), I too would prefer to think of mine as a compatible companion for my own preferences. However, there is no denying that the Raleigh cruiser, my current ride, is a lady (insert Tom Jones doing a lusty 'whoa whoa whoa' here).

While I haven't gone so far as to give her a name of any sort in the few years she has been in my possession, I can't help but to really appreciate her generously-curvy design, little details that perk up her brown, rusty appearance, and the feeling of grace that I get when I'm out with her. I feel like I need to be wearing a long Victorian dress with a ridiculously big hat covering an equally-ridiculously big hairdo; I don't think I will ever be able to ride a step-through without this mental image.


At any rate, after a couple more rides with her, I feel like I should keep her around for the winter as my work horse. I can't deny that there are certain places that she is able to go that my usual ride wouldn't. I can rely on her weight and fatter tires to carry me over slush piles and accumulations of rock salt without the slightest fishtail - no small bit of comfort when traveling down one of the busiest lengths of road in the city. I think she and I will carry on this affair until the roads dry out again, the the obstructions and hazards have moved on.

Look at it this way, it really is for my guy's good, isn't it? Keeping him in the basement, safe and dry while I let my lady do all the dirty work, will preserve his paint and keep him from rust, right? I'll keep trying to rationalize this shift in allegiances; until then, I will try not to look like a complete tool hanging out on this dignified lady in winter bike attire, mess bag full of stuff, flashing lights, and a pink helmet.

Todays's forecast: slushy bike lanes and a light dusting of sexual harassment

(Note - this picture isn't actually me and my bike, but it's not too far off on how old riding the thing makes me feel)

Monday again, and back on the road, this time on my old Raleigh 'sport' cruiser. I always found it funny that the side of this massive, brown steel blunderbuss was emblazoned with the blatantly-false epithet 'sport' - about the only think sports-related about this ride is the amount of effort it takes to lift its bulk up stairs.


It's funny how a year away from an old ride completely changes how you feel about getting back on it. The ride in today felt like I had never ridden the Raleigh, even though it was my only means of transport last summer. Riding on a step through cruiser after a year of a fairly light men's racing road bike felt completely foreign to me - from the upright position, to the large seat and flat pedals that don't require clipping in. I never noticed how much when riding my men's bike I used the distribution of my body weight and posture to balance and steer; with this cruiser, I feel like the bulk of the bike itself, and my arms, do all the work. Needless to say, I can't wait to be back to normal.

In addition to feeling like a complete bike beginner, the roads were terribly maintained after our recent storm ; I normally ride up Roosevelt (a pretty large and busy street) because it gets a lot of traffic and tends to dry out quicker, but today the bike lane was completely covered in about 3" of dingy gray slush. I was then forced to ride IN the busy traffic on an unfamiliar bike whose unsteadiness under pressure brought back bad memories of my mule experience in Peru. On the plus side, having the wider tires and heavier bike added a bit more traction and stability; I was able to go over patches of slush that would have made me fishtail on my regular bike, so that was comforting. However, on the other side of the coin, being on the heavier bike made me feel like I was driving a large SUV through a snow storm in that it felt much harder to bring to a full stop - this was a bit nerve-wracking when going down the large hill at the end of the bridge on Roosevelt, which terminates at a stop light that I never seem to be able to make on my slower bike.

Finally I reached the footpaths by the museum, and began my slow and cautious descent towards the underpass (my nemesis). I was feeling pretty happy that, for once, the paths were completely snow-free (lord knows how), when I saw a pedestrian in the distance. Being in a decent mood, I said hello, and was greeted by a hoot and the lovely greeting of "big buuuuuuuuns. How you doin' big butt?' Great... just great. Judging by the leer, I guess it was meant to be complimentary, but it still makes me happy that Fat Race is just around the corner. Some guys just can't resist the sight of a corn-fed Midwestern girl riding a bike.

This flashback to all the comments I got riding over the summer in my bike shorts (usually from men in their 40s-60s) will probably be one of my main forms of inspiration. Damn it, if I'm going to get hollered at, it better not be for having a fat ass! No big girl sexual fetish niches for me, please.

Nothing much to say this morning...

except that the security guard told me I could ride my bike in the museum to get from the door to the elevator (it's sort of a long way). I thought she was joking, so I asked 'are you sure?' to make sure it was really OK. She said 'yeah, as long as you don't hit anyone.'

Awesome. I always wanted to do that, but never thought I could get away with it!

Before I forget

Here is the flier for the Sadie Hawkins ride and race in Chicago. All you cyclists out there really should make it if you can; people even come in from around the country to participate. It's a really fun night. Even better, if you want to help out, please click on the img, print it out, and post it up wherever you think interested cyclists might see it. Thanks!