Weeping Cherry Tree

This is my little weeping ornimental cherry tree, (no fruit) that keeps trying to die each year but struggles on and has nice blossoms this year.

Back to Williamsburg Outdoor World

We headed back to the Outdoor World in Williamsburg today. This is the first and only Outdoor World we have visited so far. We think it's a very nice park. There is not much activity in the park, but it makes for a very peaceful experience.

Gary is the manager of this park and he seems very on top of things and very nice. There was not a pickleball court here, and I guess Diane talked to him about putting one in. I can't imagine anyone saying no to Diane, so thanks to her there is one here now. On top of him putting in the court, Gary has also become a fellow player and will come join us if we are playing!

We like it here. We're hoping this is a sign that we will enjoy Outdoor World parks as much as Thousand Trails.

The First Record of Michael Fisher

The first record I have of Michael Fisher comes from Carroll County, Ohio Deed Book 6 page 475 and is dated December 21, 1840. Michael was apparently a resident of Stark County, Ohio when he purchased 62 acres of land in the Southwest Quarter of Section Six in Township Sixteen in Range Six (SW ¼ S6 T16 R4) in Carroll County. John Phend owned 80 acres in the NE ¼ of that same section. Michael's daughter Louisa would marry Jacob Phend, son of John, in August 1847.

Talk about legal speak:
John Shover to Michel Fisher. To all to whom these presents shall come greeting. Know ye that I John Shover of Stark County Ohio, for the consideration of Eight hundred and fifty dollars Received to my full Satisfaction of Michel Fisher of the County and State aforesaid do give grant bargain Sell and confirm unto him the said Michel Fisher the following described tract or lot of land Situate in the County of Carroll and State of Ohio and being south west quarter of section number six in Township Sixteen in range number six and is bounded As follows by the lines of Said quarter containing Sixty two acres more or less. To have and to hold the above bargained and granted premises with the appurtenances thereof unto him the Said Michel Fisher his heirs and assigns forever to his and their own proper use and behoof and Also I the said John Shover do for my Self my heirs Executors and administrators covenant with the Said Michel Fisher his heirs and assigns that at and until the issuing of these presents I was well Seized of the premises as a good indifinable Estate in fee simple and have good right to bargain and sell the same in manner and form as is above written and that the same is free of all Encumbrances what soever and further I the Said Joseph Shover do by these presents bind myself and my heirs forever to warrant and defend the above bargained and granted premises to him the said Michel Fisher his heirs and assigns against all claims and demands whatsoever. And I Anna wife of the Said John Shover do hereby in consideration of the money as the aforesaid paid to my said husband release and forever quit claim unto the said Michel Fisher his heirs and assigns all my right of dower in and to the above described premises. In witness whereof we have hereunto set our hands and seals this twenty first day of December Anno Domini one thousand Eight hundred and forty.
Signed Sealed and delivered presence of David Huston

Fields of Figueroa Mountain

Fields of Figueroa Mountain, originally uploaded by ParsecTraveller.

Here's a wide-angle view of some of the flowering hillsides on Figueroa Mountain near Santa Barbara. What an incredible place...unbelievably colorful!

Wisteria Lane

It is good to be back in Boston, just in time for Thanksgiving. We are off to visit family - but first, I wanted to share this:

I spotted this unseasonably floral bicycle in scenic Somerville. It is a Batavus Old Dutch, in "head-to-toe" lilac. The pannier-basket is decorated with garlands of faux wisteria.
When it comes to pastel purple, the owner obviously follows the "more is more" principle - which I, for one, very much appreciate on dreary November days like today. (I wonder whether colourful bicycles could be used to treat Seasonal Affective Disorder, just like "light therapy"?)

Hooray for lovely bicycles and have a good Thanksgiving!

Lost Lake, Found Courage

Yesterday I went on a stunningly beautiful ride - a woodsy countryside loop with the fabled Lost Lake as its midpoint attraction. I'd been hearing about Lost Lake for some time, but could not quite picture what was being described. They said the road around the lake consists of dramatic "rollers" (short, steep hills) that keep coming at you until you don't know which way is up and which way is down. "There is a section where you will be braking uphill, you'll see!" explained theBlayleys gleefully.




After that sort of description, I did not imagine my first ride to the lake taking place on a day with more snow than we'd experienced all winter prior. But that is exactly what transpired.






You know how sometimes you try so hard to avoid something you're scared of, only to end up doing that exact thing? That more or less describes my weekend. On Saturday morning I awoke to a downpour washing away the snow from previous days. The weather report said that the rain would end by mid-day, and that the temperature would rise to mid-50s. I believed it, and set out for a quick ride to Lexington at noon even though it was still drizzling. A few miles in, the drizzle became a downpour again. Then the temperature started to drop instead of rising. And as I proceeded North on the Minuteman Trail, I began to encounter stretches of snow and ice. It was supposed to all have been gone by now, and it was supposed to be warm! But, well, it wasn't. And since I was already en route and soaked, I kept going.





The first couple of times I encountered snow on the path, I got off the bike and walked. But as the stretches kept coming and I got increasingly wet and cold, annoyance took over and I began riding through them - first cautiously, then more brazenly. My narrow tires cut through the slush and cracked the weak ice. The thicker snow was trickier, but I didn't panic and got through it. Before I knew it, I was riding through the very conditions I'd been avoiding all winter. Only toward the very end did the path become completely impassable, and I walked ankle deep in wet snow as freezing rain poured relentlessly.





Soaking wet head to toe, I finally limped inside the Ride Studio Cafe. They took one look at me and brought out space heaters and towels. I removed as much of what I was wearing as was acceptable and sat there shivering and drying my clothes, swearing at the weather.



After some coffee and quality time with the space heaters, my mood improved. Later that afternoon the weather indeed cleared up, and the sun even came out. When I was finally dry enough to ride home, most of the snow on the trail had melted - which made it logical to conclude that I'd be fine doing the Sunday ride the next morning, since surely the roads would be entirely clear by then.






What I failed to account for, is that the Sunday ride to Lost Lake would take us north. And in the North it's, you know, colder and consequently the snow takes longer to melt. Had I realised this in advance, I probably would not have gone. But then I would have missed out on some truly magical scenery and an extremely fun ride. The roads were not bad, but there was occasional slush and ice, and quite a bit of sand. Had I not gone on that hellish short ride alone the previous day, these road conditions at group-ride speed would have been out of my comfort zone. But because I did, I was now (just barely) okay with it. Very cautious on downhills, but otherwise fine.







There were four of us (Pamela, Dena, Emily and myself).We rode at a comfortable pace, the temperature was not too bad, and the scenery was just unreal - endless winding roads through snow-covered fields and pine trees, almost like a staged scene from some winter sporting good catalogue. Except of course it was March, and we were not cross-country skiing but riding bikes.






By the time we got to Lost Lake, I was so full of the day's impressions that I'd forgotten all about its roller-coaster reputation and did not remember until I was already doing the loop around the lake. I have to say it wasn't scary at all, just really exciting. The hills are so steep and short, that after you climb the first one there is really no need to do any work - you just steer the bike and hang on. The first downhill is so fast that you end up coasting all the way up the next hill and then it's downhill again, repeated maybe half a dozen times. And yes it's true that there is one particular section where you have to go leftish on an uphill - but you're flying up that hill so fast that you have to brake in order to make the turn.Fascinating.




I think this ride will stand out in my memory for a long time, not only because of how beautiful it was, but because I was less focused than usual on the aspects I found challenging or scary. I just kind of went with it, relaxed and enjoyed it. I am grateful to have experienced a winter landscape this perfect, and glad that fear did not stand in the way.

James and Tobitha Scott Robison

About a month ago I was contacted by a descendant of James and Tobitha Scott Robison. We *think* that James *could be* a son of Henry and Ann Robison.

That inquiry set me off to "assemble" the information I had on the Robison/Robinson Families of Whitley County, Indiana and to see if I could fill in some of the blank spots. Through evaluation of the census records it was determined that Henry and Ann Robison *may* have had eight children.

In the household of Henry and Ann in 1830 there is one male 10-14 years old (year of birth would be between 1816 and 1820). In 1840 there is one male aged 20-29 years (born 1811-1820). James Robison "fits" into this time frame. Unless there is a bible record out there "somewhere" that provides the names of the children of Henry and Ann Robison, I don't know that we'll ever be able to "prove" that James is their son.

Whitley County marriage records show that James Robinson and Tobitha Jane Scott were married on January 1, 1846. (pdf documents online: Marriage Affidavit and the Marriage Return)

The only James Robison listed in the 1850 census for Whitley county was 32 years old and enumerated in the household of Thomas Cleveland. His place of birth was left blank. At 32 years of age, his year of birth would be about 1818 give or take a year (or two). So where is his wife Tobitha?

In the 1860 census for Cleveland Township, Whitley County (page 212/895) we find James and Tobitha Robinson with three children: 11 year old Samuel, two year old "E" and a 10 year old female. At first glance the name of the 10 year old looks like Martha, but upon closer examination I think it is Marietta. James is a 43 year old laborer, he owns real estate valued at $200 and has a personal estate of $112. He was born in Pennsylvania. Tobitha is 33 years old and was born in Ohio.

In 1870, Tobitha J. Robison is listed in Cleveland Township, Whitley County as head of household. She is 30 [sic] years old, has real estate valued at $150 and a personal estate of $100. She was born in Pennsylvania. Listed in her household is 12 year old Emily Jane, 10 year old Marietta, and 5 year old Arena Ann. All of the children were born in Indiana. If Marietta is 10 years old in 1860, she would be 20 in 1870. Unless, perhaps, the first Marietta died and a daughter born afterwards was given the same name? Was Emily Jane named after James' possible sister Emily?

Online Cemetery Transcriptions for South Whitley Cemetery show the following burials in section U row 16 stones 6, 7 & 8:
Emily Jane Robinson died January 3, 1875 aged 17 years 1 month 7 days
James Robinson died April 2 1860 aged 33 years 6 months 3 days
Samuel M Robinson died October 1855

There is an issue with two of the entries. James is listed in the 1860 census which was enumerated on July 27th. And 11 year old Samuel is listed in the household in 1860 also. Thus, a trip to the South Whitley Cemetery was in order!

Using the two images of the grave marker for James, shown below, I believe his inscription reads "James / Robenson / husband of / T. J. Robenson / died / Apr 12, 1870 / aged / 53 ys 6 m 3 d"



The inscription for James is on the south face of the stone. There is another inscription on the west face that is pretty much illegible, even with using the foil technique. However, it appears to be for the son, Samuel. The date can't be deciphered but since he is listed in the 1860 census I'd be inclined to think that he died in 1865 rather than 1855 as the above mentioned transcription indicates.

A marker to the south of James is also unreadable but it looks like it could be for Emily Jane. To the north of James there is another marker, not included in the online cemetery transcriptions, that reads "Infant / son of / J. and T. J. / Robison"



A little over a year after James' death, his widow remarried. Whitley County Marriages (book 2 page 120) show that Tobitha Robinson was married on June 26, 1871 to Joseph Mintz [sic]. I have not looked at the actual record yet so I don't know if Mintz is a transcription error or if that is what the record says.

My correspondent said that Joseph and Tabitha Montz lived in Chester Township, Wabash County, Indiana and that is where they were found in 1880. Joseph Montz was the head of the household, he was a 57 year old farmer and had been born in Pennsylvania.

His wife, Tabitha J., was 54 years old and had been born in Ohio. Living with them was 15 year old Anna Robison, born in Indiana, identified as a step daughter of Joseph.

If we go back to the cemetery, we'll see a marker to the north of Infant Robison that is now illegible. In the cemetery transcriptions it is identified as J. M. Alburn Carper, son of J & C, who died October 11, 1882 aged 11 years 11 months.

To the north of the Carper stone is that of Tobitha Montz:
Tobitha J / Wife of / Joseph / Montz / died / NOV. 1, 1882 / AGED / 56 Y's 1 Mo. / 27 D's


The James Robison family at South Whitley Cemetery, Cleveland Township, Whitley County, Indiana. Eliza Jane McMannen could be a sister of James.

Joseph Montz is not listed in the Whitley County cemetery transcriptions.

My correspondent is a great-granddaughter of James and Tobitha's daughter, Arena Ann Robison (also known as Irene Ann and Irena). Irene was born January 3, 1865. On June 3, 1883 she was married to Jacob E. Cripe. Sometime in the late 1890s Jacob and Irene traveled west via covered wagon, first living in Missouri for a while and then moving to Kansas. I found them in Montier Township, Shannon County, Missouri in 1900. I haven't found them in the 1910 census index at ancestry. In 1920 Jacob and Irene are living on Fifth Street in Pomona, Franklin County, Kansas. In 1930, Irena is widowed and living by herself on East 5th Street in Pomona.

The following information on Irene's family was transcribed by my correspondent from the Cripe family bible.

• Jacob E. Cripe and Irena A. Robison wed on Sunday June 3, 1883 at the residence of J. Montz. Witnesses were Jacob Grow and wife, Joseph Lands and wife, Bob Cripe and wife and Lizzie Frantz (or Frentz)
• Jacob E. Cripe born July 20, 1852, died October 30, 1928
• Irena A. Cripe born January 3, 1865
• Martha E. Cripe born July 6, 1884
• Mary A. Cripe born January 26, 1888, died January 14, 1908
• Infant son [of Mary's] died January 14, 1908
• Alice Cripe born Nov. 2, 1889
• Ira D. Cripe born June 5, 1894 d. April 27, 1975

Something Special

Having a special bicycle is not about following the latest chic trend. It is not about hunting down a frame made of famous tubing. It is not about obsessing about period-correct components. And it is not about trying to evoke a specific country of origin.It's really about focusing on your preferences and your needs. Only you can make your bicycle uniquely yours.



My fellow Bostonian C.P. - or "cycler" on Biking in Heels - has done an impressive job in this regard. Her bicycle, Gilbert, is completely and utterly hers - and very special. CP comes from a family of cyclists and has ridden a bike for as long as she can remember. But it was not until she lived in Italy as a young adult, that her love of city bicycles with step-through frames was ignited. Upon returning to the US, she brought a vintage Italian city bike with her, and the rest is history. An architect by profession and a DIY enthusiast by nature, C.P. enjoys wrenching on her own bikes and now owns a modest stable of vintage ladies' models from the 1930s through the 1970s.



As her ultimate bicycle for transportation, C.P. wanted something that handled like her favourite vintage bikes, yet was as clean and reliable as a new bike. And so her project began. She rescued a 1970s Raleigh Lady's Sports frame and fork, and had them repainted a colour she loved. She bought a suitable chaincase and had it painted to match, along with the fenders. She built modern wheels with alloy rims around a Shimano 8-speed hub in the rear and a Shimano dynamo hub in the front.



Gilbert's set-up includes handsome and effective lighting,



cushy cream tires,



front and rear racks for maximum hauling capacity,



Nitto "Albatross" handlebars with city brake levers and a classic bell,



a wheel stabiliser,

and, last but not least, this fantastic fishing creel basket, made of wicker with leather accents. For the holidays, the basket is decorated with battery-operated Christmas lights.Eccentric? Delightfully so! I imagine this style of basket is quite useful for storing small to medium objects within reach, secured by the closed lid. One thing that never fails to impress me about Biking in Heels, is the amount of stuff "cycler" is able to carry on that bike. This has included: a stack of shipping parcels, large plants, household appliances, and building supplies - most of these, of course, on the rear rack and not in the creel basket. While the Raleigh Lady's Sports was not specifically designed as a utility bike, it seems that Gilbert cab haul pretty much anything.



Given the way Gilbert came into existence, it is difficult to categorise him. The bicycle is no longer a vintage Raleigh 3-speed, yet it certainly isn't a modern bike either. But why categorise him at all? You will not find another like him in any catalogue or bicycle blog.Gilbert is C.P.'s personal bicycle, and he is unique. Visit them both at Biking in Heels.

Local Give-Away: Basil Tour Panniers

I've received an extra set of sample panniers from the Dutch bicycle accessory manufacturer Basil, to give away locally as I see fit. Can't decide who to give them to, so will use the blog and pick randomly. Local readers, this one's for you:






Basil Tour Panniers

silver and black

32cm x 12cm x 32cm

26L capacity



Reinforced construction in durable water-repellent 600D polyester; zipper side pockets, double reflective stripes on all sides, bands for LED/ straps/ child's seat. The panniers are a unit, connecting over the top of a rear rack. Inner edges are tapered to prevent heel strike on bikes with shorter chainstays. Good for commuting or touring.




Give-away terms:




1. You must be reasonably local, as defined by coming to claim the panniers in person from Broadway Bicycle in Cambridge MA.




2. You must have ridden your bike at least once since February 8th, of which you must supply photographic or verbally descriptive evidence in the comments here.




Otherwise, that's it. Hopefully, this will be a little pick me up for someone braving the snowy weather! If you'd like the panniers, leave a comment between now and 11:59pm tomorrow night (February 20th, ), and don't forget to include your email address. I will pick from eligible entries at random.




Basil is making an effort to streamline their North American distribution and we should be seeing more of their products in local bike shops soon. Many thanks to them for the sample panniers, and I hope the recipient enjoys them.

Comments, Arguments, Bicycles...

[image via Chris 531]

Over the past couple of weeks, I've spent considerably more time moderaring comments than usual. For the most part, it's been a handful of readers getting overzealous in their debates with one another. But when hostility enters a discussion, others get sucked into it as well. All I know is: I don't want to be the Jerry Springer of bicycle blogs. I would rather have fewer comments, but retain the atmosphere of comradery that has been characteristic here thus far.



I have wondered whether discussions about bicycles are somehow more prone to conflict than other topics. Readers often tell me that they are uncomfortable commenting on various online bicycle forums and blogs, because they find the atmosphere hostile. And I understand that: I myself have a difficult time communicating on bikeforums, despite it being such a valuable resource for technical information.I also can no longer read the comments on Yehuda Moon,because of all the bickering between readers there. It is well documented that there exist genuine differences between what kind of interactions people find enjoyable: Some prefer for everything to be in the style of a debate, with technical inaccuracies in the wording of others victoriously exposed. Others favour a more nurturing, open form of communication. My own preference is somewhere in between: I like a good debate and I am fine with being challenged, as long as the underlying mood feels friendly.



[images via Schwar]

Sometimes I think that we'd all be nicer over the internet, if we just imagined all the unknown others out there as kittens. Kittens, who love bicycles - at times feisty, but ultimately sweet and fluffy, pedaling happily through the fragrant meadows. Do you really want to hurt their feelings?



But for those who can't deal with the kitten metaphor and prefer specifics, I will be more direct: I think that it is a matter of common sense to refrain from mocking or deriding others' points of view in the comments. It's not that everyone has to agree, but sometimes there are nicer ways to disagree. In the same vein, consider refraining from statements that, while technically speaking may be phrased politely, you know in your heart of hearts are inflammatory (for example: "No offense meant, but riding a blue bicycle lowers your IQ and transmits STDs"). Finally, allow me to suggest that it is best to avoid making speculative, or misleading statements about individuals or entities that can be considered slanderous (for example: "I heard that Lovely Bicycle is written in the Far East, using child labor and toxic inks"). I trust that most people understand the difference between comments that are "in good faith" and "not in good faith."



Meaningful reader feedback has been a defining element of "Lovely Bicycle" from the start, and it makes me happy to be the hostess of such thoughtful, interesting discussions. As one reader recently suggested, my posts are collaborative: I offer my views, and others offer their views in return. It's a constructive exchange, which I think works nicely. Please help me keep it that way. And think of the cycling kittens.

Happy Birthday, Tami...

Happy Birthday! Thank you for everything that you are doing. It is appreciated very much. If it wasn't for you, I very likely wouldn't be on this journey. I love you. Aunt Becky. (Photos were taken in November 1976.)

Chance Encounters and Boston Vintage Bikes

Taking advantage of the mild temperatures a couple of days ago, we went for another ride along the Charles River Trail, this time a nice long one. We were taking a break to photograph the bikes (a totally normal part of any day, right?), when I heard a very polite yet excited voice from the trail. Was I by chance the person from Lovely Bicycle? I guess of all the girls out there riding loop-frame bicycles with enormous red bows on the basket, I must be especially recognisable? I attribute it to my unique facial features.

We invited the gentleman to join us on the dock, and a fest of bicycle photography and discussion ensued.

Apparently, he collects photos of people photographing him. So this is my picture of him, taking a picture of me taking a picture of him.

And this is his picture of me, taking a picture of him taking a picture of me taking a... Really, the philosophical implications are staggering. You can see this and many other bicycle related pictures on verdammelt's photostream on flickr.

Here is a shot showing off his bicycle better (admittedly posed in what Steve A. calls my "Lenin in Finland" stance). The bicycle is a vintage BSA 3-speed step-through, which he found abandoned, rescued, restored back to health, and now uses as a winter bike.

Here is a somewhat blurry close-up. Our new acquaintance is proof of how common these rare vintage bicycles are in Boston. A BSA randomly left abandoned on the streets? Yup. It is a pretty cerulean-blue colour with nice lugs and a beautiful fork crown. You can't see them here, but the bike also has shimmery red grips on the handlebars that set off the blue frame quite nicely.

And I love the unusual saddle. It is sprung pleather, with the look and feel of an old leather jacket - not the texture one normally sees on saddles. Overall, this is an excellent rescue, and the owner seems to care about bicycle and to like riding them very much. We enjoyed meeting him and thank him for posing for these photos!

Wear and Tear

I've been spending a lot of time road cycling lately, and suddenly it seems like all of my gear is falling apart at the same time: Socks are pilling to the point where they no longer look decent. Gloves are developing holes in the fingers. Baselayers are growing threadbare under the arms. A piece of the zipper broke off on my cold weather cycling jacket. And my thermal winter tights are fraying everywhere. The damage to the last two garments is particularly frustrating, because these are "big ticket" items that I was hoping would last for some time. While the jacket is a year and a half old that's still not a terribly long life span. And the tights I've only started wearing this October. It doesn't seem right for things to be wearing out at this rate. Aside from the financial aspect, I am simply too exhausted to start the search for the right gear from scratch. When it comes to cycling clothing, finding the fit and functionality that work can be a nightmare. I don't want to look for new stuff; I want the "old" stuff to last.



Are my expectations unrealistic? I would love to hear from roadcyclists what the typical life expectancy of their clothing is - jerseys, shorts, jackets, etc. If you cycle, say, 5,000 miles a year, what kind of wear and tear do you consider normal?

I Don't Want You, But I Need You... When Bike Love Turns Irrational

Once in a while, I see a bicycle that is completely unnecessary for my lifestyle, and perhaps even impossible to ride given my skill level... And yet, that bicycle fills me with desire. Here are three bad-boys that evoke these conflicted feelings. (For maximum enjoyment, I suggest playing "You Really Got a Hold on Me" as background music.)

[Rivendell Bombadil, fitted with cream Fat Frank tires. Image from Bearded Peter]
The Bombadil is a clear-coated, lugged steel mountain bike from Rivendell. It is completely rigid (no front or rear suspension), and comes with a double-top-tube frame. I see myself as a Warrior Princess seated high over the fearsome double top-tubes and hopping over roots and rocks with wild abandon - my hair fluttering in the wind like a fiery trail and my face streaked with dirt (attractively accentuating my cheekbones)... Of course, I really should learn to at least mount and dismount a bike properly before entertaining such fantasies...

[A.N.T. Basket Bike, lady's frame, in blue-gray. Image from antbike]

Here is my most recent forbidden love: the A.N.T. Basket Bike, lady's frame. I do not require a specialised basket bike. But every time I look at this photo, I want to cry. It is so beautiful, and I have never seen anything quite like it. (Yes, I know that the idea of a transport bike with a small front wheel is not new, but they did not usually come with such graceful frames.) I absolutely love the classic Porteur chaincase, and that slate gray is one of my favourite colours. The overall look is at once so vintage and so modern and so... poetically eccentric, that my very soul cries out for it. Yes, my soul. These are some heavy feelings I am sharing with you.

[Royal H. Cycles, track bike. Image from Royal H.]

And finally, the most bizarre crush I've had: This is a track bike by Royal H. Cycles. The enormous frame is painted cream, and the lugs are meticulously outlined in a rich orange. I can't explain why I have such a strong reaction to it. I can't ride fixed gear to save my life, and I don't like orange. But I look at it, and it just seems so... perfect. If I gaze at it for too long, I feel the need to learn how to ride fixed immediately. And also to stroke it and feed it caramels while whispering sweet nothings in its ear... Is that wrong?

Social and Solitary

If you look at most cycling blogs today, the discourse tends to stress the social aspects of riding a bicycle. Cycling is presented as an activity that fosters a sense of community- with an emphasis on interaction with other cyclists, neighborhood initiatives, various workshops and co-ops, group rides, community action programmes, and city or state-wide coalitions.

I find this interesting to observe, because to me the bicycle has always been a symbol of solitude - something that brings complete independence and freedom. When I think of "riding a bicycle," I imagine cycling for miles and miles through changing landscapes, alone with my thoughts and at peace with the world; a meditation of sorts. But I can certainly understand that others imagine group rides, bike workshops, and other social activities - they see the bicycle as a shared interest that makes it easy to connect to others.

Often I am asked why I do not participate in group rides, and the reason is simply that for me socialising and cycling are two distinct activities that are best enjoyed separately. It makes me nervous to chat while trying to navigate traffic, so I fully enjoy neither the discussion nor the ride. I also feel that group rides - even slow ones - are more hazardous than cycling alone, because you have to watch out not only for traffic, but for the wheels of other cyclists; I know probably a half dozen people whose only cycling accidents happened during group rides. I can cycle pretty happily with one person at a time (though it depends on their style), but beyond that it starts to get stressful.

This is not to say that I am "against" the socially-oriented portrayal of cycling. I just don't think that the bicycle = community association is universally applicable. And after all, it is rather fascinating that the bicycle can be a symbol of two diametrically opposite things: the social and the solitary.