When I was a “younger” man,1 I used to ride my bike around the county on idle afternoons. It made sense before I had my driver’s license, but even after I could drive, I still loved traveling around on my bike. I suppose I wasn’t as into the act of cycling then as I was just exploring; the bicycle was part of the adventure to me, and not the whole adventure. I sometimes rode to church, to the Hazlet library, or really wherever I fancied. I suppose it’s only natural to feel nostalgic for those carefree summers.
On one such trip, the day after my junior prom, I rode to the old Bell Labs building and then climbed up onto the roof. It was fairly fun.
On another summer day, at the start of my senior year of high school, I rode aimlessly until I arrived at the beach.
On occasion I’d ride the local multi-use pathway, the Henry Hudson Trail. Looking back, those trails weren’t as nice as those near Pittsburgh, but they were nice enough.
Confession: I used to sometimes walk my bike up that steep part of Telegraph Hill Road! It’s funny to think that I’ve now become the sort of person who rides bicycles up mountains for fun.
Well, at twenty years old, some would say that I have no right to use that phrase yet.↩︎