“I can’t take the traffic any more,” Andy moaned over the phone a couple of weeks ago. “The Del Mar Fair traffic is killing me.”
“Are you ready to try taking the train?” I replied, while packing orders on the counter.
“I’m ready to try anything,” he responded. “But I’m going to need a bike. Work is 5 miles from train station.”
“Bike shopping it is, then. I know where our weekend is going.”
Off we went and spent an entire Sunday shopping for bicycles. We both used to cycle fairly seriously (I’ve been known to do 100 miles in a day), but that was well before we met each other. By the time I met Andy I had a cyst in my wrist that kept me from holding the handlebars. I had surgery to have it removed a few years ago, but we haven’t had bikes ‘til now, so we’ve never really cycled together.
We’ve been having fun the last week and a half on our bikes, remembering what it’s like to go at high speed without a protective shell (or skis). I’ve been meeting Andy at the train station in the evenings, and we’ve been trying to cycle at least 10 miles a day on the weekends, too. Now all we have to do is figure out where to store the bikes. Andy has some crazy plan for hanging them that involves the strategic use of pulleys and our 10’ ceilings. I’ll let you know how it goes…