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The temp went up to 60 degrees on Monday, so I jumped on Pippin for my first long-ish bike ride of 2024: To the hamlet of Ironville, PA and back to my row house in Lancaster City.1
On a similar day several years ago another cyclist was getting in miles and into a tangle with my very careful wife Becky.
We were walking past tennis courts next to the Franklin & Marshall campus. Suddenly a bright yellow ball arced over our heads into the alley beside us. Becky darted onto the blacktop to retrieve it. Two 20-something guys on the court were waiting appreciatively for her toss.
As she snagged it and turned to heave it she found herself smack dab in the path of a elderly gentleman on a road bike creeping along at 2 MPH. He was in full riding kit: Bright colors and tight fabric everywhere. Becky narrowly escaped his contact.
He then veered slowly toward the curb, uttering something disapproving to her. He became motionless atop his bike for a full second. Then he fell over into the grass. I recalled Arte Johnson’s character in the TV show Laugh-In whose signature move was riding a tricycle wearing a rain coat and flopping over to the squeals of my family gathered around our Zenith television in the 70s.2
Becky wasn’t amused: She was super apologetic:
Oh I’m so sorry, sir. I didn’t hear you coming! Are you OK?
He gathered himself and reiterated his disapproval of her getting in his way! He didn’t appear hurt, and she certainly wasn’t.
Bikes rarely hurt any bodies except for the ones on them. 3
On the other hand cars kill humans everyday on bikes, on foot, and in other cars to the tune of about 35,000 souls a year in the US.
Auto travel by its very nature lulls us into a false sense of invincibility.4 As that sinks in consider: Reading this newsletter easily proves you’re a survivor of a road calamity.
We two-wheelers know we are not invincible which is why we are continually on guard.
With some effort the older gentle-rider remounted his bike and began to pedal slowly and deliberately into the campus.
We walked on with our dog and glanced over at the tennis guys who seemed as confused as we were. We exchanged smiles and realized we knew each other from church.
Upon reflection it seems an unfortunate convergence took place: The fellow was going too slow to extract his shoes from the pedals without falling over, and Becky was moving too quickly in his path for him to attempt a stop. That likely explains his mutterings.
Weeks later the four of us rehearsed our memories much as I’m doing now, amused by the absurdity of the scene and grateful that both rider and walker came away unscathed.
Public Service Announcement
Bicyclists are back on the road. Please notice them and give them some space. They mean you no harm. Thank you.
News From Town
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If you must know the riding stats: 17.7 miles and 969 feet of elevation. That’s called a humble brag down here in the footnotes.
I couldn’t find any photos or videos of Johnson’s stunt, but some homages exist, so it must have been more than a fever dream. Likewise, Becky’s brush with spandex was had a dreamy quality to it.
There’s always an exception to every rule. Our daughter Eliza got rather banged up in Lancaster when she walked out to cross the street after working at Senorita Burrita (now Roburito’s). One of her friends was screaming down Prince Street on a bike and slammed into her causing numerous bruises. Sorry, E.J.!
I’ll be talking about invincibility and “vincibility” as they relate to the spiritual benefits of walking on March 8th at The Square Halo Books Conference. Sign-up and join us if you can. And for a further explanation of why cars and drivers kill so many people I commend this article by Addison Del Mastro.