Delerium Nocturnum (Racing?Consumption?)

[Matt Barkley]

:beer: After an early evening of celebrating a local cycling pillar's 49th birthday I find it appropriate to start a thread for Boston Drunk's (where'd-hego) or E-Richie Richie's sake (let alone Jerk or other lurkers all of us...)

Campy/Shimano Steel/Carbon/Ti/Alu?

LBS/Mail-order?

Retro-Grouge vs. Hey my OCLV Rox!!!

Sensitive vs. Cool Mo' Dee Phorum pos(t)er??

Naw!!!! Nagasawaa!!!! Why Do YOU Ride? How many bikes you have is irrelevent. How many races you've been in solo off the front - yet VDB won... Irrelevant - and yet entertaining. What massage experience you have? - (honestly) maybe beside the point.

WHY DO YOU RIDE?

Why does the above mentioned 49 year old ride? Because he lost his father when he was 12 and pretty-much raised his 6 brothers and sisters - with his inspiring Mom - so he discovered a wonderful Escape/Lifestyle with the bike.

Why do I ride? Because I Love riding. I love the uncertainty / independance / fresh air / Speed.

Feel free to contribute. - Matt
:beer:

[Too Tall]

Good one Matt.

Welllll. At the age of 5 I started riding. I can still remember the moment that I rode on two wheels....thinking "these stupid training wheels are UNNECESSARY". Dad took them off that afternoon. We were at our summer beach cottage. At the very moment I put my fanny on the seat it was a passion and has not stopped 40 yrs. later. Riding put a 100% halt to the crazy schizophrenic thinking that rattled around my head at that young age. NOBODY knew how f'd up I was or understood. BUT getting on a bike damn near cured me. Also, the love of being outdoors has stayed with me today. Riding still clears my head and freedom to move is an important element everyday of my life....has not changed. I thank the stars everyday I am lucky enough to do what I do.

Growing up I was constantly on a bike....unless I was on a horse ;)

But why???? I can't tell you but riding does quiet my mind and the bike is such a fine thing it could not be a more perfect spice to flavor my day. Oh, and bikes are so damn cool. I mean, how can you not love the culture of cycling? Wait, I'll add more later...gotta go daydream about my next ride.

[Climb01742]

i love how my body feels when its in motion, cycling, running, swimming, whatever. and i love the sport of cycling, the races, the history, the culture of european cycling. there, matt, was that sensitive enough for you? :D

[gt6267a]

ahh, my first ride was at about 3. my sister was learning how to ride. at that age i wanted to do everything she did. i bugged the living @#$ out of father until he taught me. as an aside, this is also why i learned addition, subtraction, multiplication, and division at an early age. we had a white board in the house. my dad would help my sister out after dinner. when she was done, i made my dad teach me what she was doing. she hated that i was able to learn the stuff. note: she is 3 years older.

ever since i got my first c-dale at 15, riding has been an escape from whatever it is that is troubling me.

[Andreu]

Its refreshing to read this and know that a couple of thousand miles away there are a bunch of nutters who go through the same emotions, feelings etc as we do here.
I can´t think of another sport were people actually say hello to each other whilst suffering, you can sometimes share the road with professionals, and there is so much camaraderie. It is a far cry from the highly paid prima donnas in other sports.
Sometimes I don´t really know why I do it....but I do it and I miss it when I don´t do it.
Of course, I use the :beer: word "nutters" in a slightly ironic and British sense of the word and no offence intended (after all I am one too!).
AF :)

[jeffg]

because of the memories of riding with my late father and especially of riding our first self-supported "century" (LA to La Jolla) when I was 12. The road was washed out at one point so the cops told us to ride on Interstate 5 for a few miles ...
Instead we carried our bikes over a large pipe spanning a rushing torrent of flood water (about 20 feet above the surface) and then continued along the coast, through Camp Pendelton, and ended by climbing (Torrey Pines?) and screaming down the other side to reach the Cove. My dad was sick then with leukemia, but he still rode 200 miles a week and crushed me. I remember him grabbing my saddle and giving me a little push when I was suffering up that last climb. It really motivated me to work harder and finish strong (I knew he could have finished hours earlier). What I wouldn't give to ride with him now!

[JackL]

After all these years, bicycle riding still seems a little bit like magic to me. How is it that I can balance on two wheels and go gliding along? I feel like I've got some secret that mere mortals don't have. Even when it's cold and raining, and cars drive by probably feeling sorry for me, I feel a little smug.
JackL