When I turned 3, my parents convinced me to trade in my pacifier for a bike. I handed it to the bike shop guy who was confused and disgusted. My dad was already an avid cyclist, competing in triathlons and Ironmans when the sport was just a few years old. I remember being taken to crit races and that one time he swallowed a bee in a triathlon, got stung in the throat and then still finished
Because of my dad, I grew up around bikes. They weren’t just a toy for kids; the race bike got stored in the house. When I was 13, my parents bought me a Specialized Hard Rock. I started riding it on the trails in the city park nearby and was hooked on mountain biking. A couple decades later, it’s still one of my favorite things to do
Somehow, I never quite took to road biking; working as a bike courier was as close as I got. My dad never quite took to mountain biking, though there were some attempts to convert him on those steep and rooty Ohio Valley hiking trails
The week before last we convened in Fruita and had a blast rolling around in the desert. Thanks for making the trip out and congratulations on the new bike, Dad!
Okay, time for a Friday evening ride!