The Rides

Without the bike ride, the races never happen. The ride is where the love for the bike forms, the countryside is explored, where the relationships are born and fostered. Eventually, the ride becomes the grindstone in which the blade is sharpened. The rides are everything. These are the rides I remember.

The Old Guard and Their BH Ride

March 4, 2020

Until you see your body doing something that your mind is trying to convince you that you can’t, you cannot know what it means to push your limits. Seeing this play out was, for me, a realization that I am the only thing limiting myself. I’ve been chasing that dragon ever since.

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Squirrels, Man

February 27, 2020

The thing about squirrels is that they stubborn little shits. You’re rolling along with some pals at 25 mph and all the sudden you find yourself in a showdown with a squirrel.

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February 26, 2020

I don’t know if any of this happens if I never meet this guy. Even if it would have, I have a hard time believing it would have been as enjoyable. Here’s how we met.

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January 20, 2020

If the family group rides my dad organized throughout my youth never happened, I wonder if a bicycle would have remained nothing more than a form of transportation.

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The Next Season Looms

January 14, 2020

The only thing I can hear is air moving. Air moving past my ears, and air moving in and out of my lungs. It’s rhythmic and controlled. It’s meditative. For the first time in a few months, I’m yearning to start it all over again. It’s time to start rebuilding the machine. The next season looms…

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A boy named Sue

January 10, 2020

My friend Mike runs a not for profit that teaches kids how to ride bikes. He has a theory that every person remembers the first time they rode a bike unassisted on two wheels. I can’t speak to everyone but I remember mine. There will be many in my family who debate this I suspect, but this is my version.

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