Gear Up

I took my son on the train yesterday to go see Floyd Landis, Levi Leipheimer, Lance Armstrong et al race in the AMGEN prologue in Sacramento. Talk about cool. I now understand why the French spend a day driving up the side of a hill, park there for several hours and cheer on their rider for the full half-second they see them whoosh by.

Thirty miles an hour, human powered. And interestingly, the race brought out all these Sacramento area bikers, all of whom are conspicuously absent this mild winter. I'm not seeing any uptick in bike commuters, as I might expect in an economic shitstorm. Nonetheless, I'm encouraged that there were so many there, and encouraged that many of these people are the activists for making what I do ride on as good as it is. Without a SABA, or without people trying to make a difference, there would be no bike lanes.

Contrast this with the Daytona 500 this afternoon. Our nation of NASCAR morons gears up to watch the big race, and I'll be one of them. Out comes my bible and barbeque. I spent a coupla hundred bucks on my Jimmie Johnson uniform jacket at the NASCAR on-line superstore, you know, the black twill. I bought my wife one, too, so we can parade through Arden Fair Mall and show our support. Jimmie's an athlete, too, you know. I chirp 2nd as I pull out of the mall, you know, because I can, and pretty much blow everyone else away as I hit the freeway onramp. These on days I don't ride my bicycle.