it was May, 1985?
John Campanile – Mt Rainier, MD
Myself and a friend had organized a club ride in beautiful Rock Creek Park. Beginning at Candy Cane City, we would ride north to Kensington, pick up lunch (or BYO), and picnic before riding back. She – let's call her Lynn – showed up in her brown '78 Datsun B-210 hatchback (which I would later find out was named "The Roach"). I helped her pulled her bike out of her hatchback, and it was love at first site: a mid-60's Schwinn single-speed, step-thru, blue. She had owned it since she was 12 years old, which would explain the silly stickers all over the frame. Me in my spandex, 12-speed Nishiki, much like others on this ride. Single-speed, huh? [snicker, snicker]. Obviously, I would need to take her under my wing, making sure she wouldn't get too far behind.
And I did. Riding behind her, sometimes alongside, keeping pace… IN THE PACK, huffing and puffing… Memories fail, but it was at some point riding behind her my front wheel went off the trail, and I fell HARD, for the second time. Only this time I fell physically. Cause of the fall: Taking My Eyes Off the Trail, a first offense.
No penalty, no foul. I won my case, and we were married a year and half later. Two girls, three dogs, six bikes, and a pair of torn spandex shorts later, I still fall for Lynn.