I am not now, nor have I ever been an athlete. Both my brothers can make the claim, but I’ve never been more than a weekend warrior/sports dilettante. Over the years, I’ve dabbled in softball, indoor soccer, and volleyball. I can’t even claim to be a dedicated cyclist, as my history shows three separate “eras.”
Like almost all of us (I’d wager), I began as a child. My first bike came with training wheels, and I eventually made it to a fat-tired, single speed classic with fenders. It carried me around my neighborhoods through elementary and junior high.
By the early 1970s, the ten-speed craze had hit and I upgraded to a bright yellow Sears bike with drop handles and hand brakes. It was still just basic transport around the neighborhood.
Shortly thereafter, two friends pushed me in a new direction. They were “serious” cyclists, and introduced me to the finer points of frames, gears, derailleurs, and riding for the joy of riding. That would carry me through college and another upgrade. This time to a beautiful silver-gray bike by Soma. That company has long since gone out of business. The bike traveled with me for a good many years, even if the miles ridden dropped to zero.
It took another decade or so before I got back on a saddle. The Soma was on its last legs. A friend sold me his old Fuji 18 speed. That group of riders was a way for us to get exercise and spend some time together. We had two fit riders and two strugglers. The two stronger ones graciously waited at the top of hills for the two stragglers.
Beyond the friendship, the great thing I gained from this phase in my riding career was the challenge to push my distance limits. Prior to this, my longest ride was about 20 miles. We would routinely do that distance. Eventually, I rode the whole way around lake Chautauqua, a total of about 42 miles. Beautiful scenery, decent roads, and a mix of challenging hills and easy flats. I did the ride multiple times. It inspired me to ride to work as well. Both my house and office were on the route, so it was a familiar ride.
When we moved to Richmond, I faced a list of new challenges. Roads here generally do not have berms. Beyond the side stripe is grass and, too often, a deep ditch. So there is nowhere to go and no room for error. This is also a much more populous area than rural Chautauqua County. More cars, many of whom drive very fast. Add to that the fact that I had to carry the bike up and down to the third floor, and I wasn’t inclined to jump in the saddle. For most of the first two years here, I just didn’t ride at all.
A local friend encouraged me to try again. In Richmond itself, there is a thriving biking community and the city is pretty bike friendly. So, I began to explore urban riding. I’s always tried to avoid that. With a lot of mostly flat riding on the west side of the city, broad, well-maintained roads, and designated riding routes, RVA has brought joy back to my riding.
Adding to the joy is an extended riding season. Riding can start in late March or early April and extend into October. There are plenty of hardy riders who ride 12 months a year, in fact. I salute them from my warm and comfy chair inside.
There’s also a wonderful walking/riding path that runs between Richmond and Jamestown. Called the Capital Trail, it offers 52 miles of paved, off-road path between two of the historic capitals of Virginia. I’ve completed it several times. It’s a challenge (especially the climb from Richmond to Varina) but a beautiful ride. I’m looking forward to riding it several times this year.
Looking back, I am certain several younger versions of myself would be surprised and impressed by what this old guy version has been doing. It certainly feels good from this point on the timeline.
Wonder what I’ll be doing ten years from now?
Stories Are My Life 
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