robinamer: Oh hey there. How’s it going? It’s been a while. That’s my fault, I know.I took a break
robinamer: Oh hey there. How’s it going? It’s been a while. That’s my fault, I know. I took a break from bike blogging this fall. Not on purpose. And for reasons that are probably not that interesting. I can tell you more about them another time. But for now I want to tell you about riding in South Florida this past weekend. My parents moved to Boca Raton five years ago, like the Jewish retirees that they are. I was really skeptical about the whole proposition: the super highways, the endless strip malls, the country clubs and gated communities. But whatever. This was their life, they were happy, that was what mattered. It wasn’t until last year’s polar vortex that it really clicked with me: I had a warm weather escape hatch. And it wasn’t until this trip that it clicked with me again: Oh duh, I can ride my bike there. You have to see the area where my parents live to understand why that didn’t occur to me earlier. The area outside their neighborhood is 100 percent four-lane semi-highways. Insanely, these roads have bike lanes. But I look at those bike lanes and go, who would ride here?! They’re not separated or buffered, traffic is moving at 40-60 mph, and Miami-Dade and Broward Counties have some of the highest rates of cyclist collision fatalities in the country. No thanks. Normally when I visit I bring my mountain shoes, dirty as they are from cross and trail riding, and go to spinning classes at my mom’s gym. It’s kind of depressing, but it was what I thought I had available to me. This time though… . Winter came hard and early to Chicago this year. After a delightfully mild summer and a brisk but pleasant fall we were plunged right back into the polar vortex. I hear it’s in the 40s today, but it’s been in the 20s for most of the past few weeks. I had a work conference and some other obligations in early November, so but the time Thanksgiving rolled around it had been three weeks since I’d ridden my bike outside. I was really starting to lose it. I was feeling a kind of depression that is thankfully normally pretty alien to me. But the forecast for Thanksgiving weekend in Boca was 75 and sunny. I found a shop online that rented road bikes — Generation Cycle in Deerfield Beach. They had a rental Specialized Allez in my size for $35 a day. I brought my own saddle, my own helmet, my own saddle bag and the rest of my gear. I sought the advice of the bike shop dudes and my parents friends. And… it was great! I had thought about meeting up with a local group ride Saturday morning, but decided against it. The guys at the bike shop told me it was a fast, aggressive group. Given I wasn’t that familiar with the terrain or the group AND I was on an unfamiliar bike I thought I’d save that for another time. So I did solo 30-mile rides both Friday and Saturday, which was perfect for where I was at mentally and physically this weekend. It was incredibly windy and riding a rental bike make me feel a little tweaked and sore in places I don’t normally feel sore, but whatever. It was glorious. I was thrilled to be out. A1A is the place to ride, FYI. That was especially clear Saturday morning. All the roadies were out in full forces, plus countless weekend warriors and casual cruisers. It’s not hard to see why. There’s a roughly 18-mile stretch from Hillsboro up past Delray Beach that has a bike lane, perfect pavement and an insane view of the ocean. In a lot of ways the area felt really familiar: All the roadies had souped-up $5,000 bikes and the ocean-side mansions looked like something out of a ’50s film set in Montecarlo. It was kind of like riding in Wilmette, only everyone there wore long sleeves. The bike shop dude told me that the pace would be slower that day because it was “so cold out.” It was 75 degrees, and I laughed out loud. The best part though was what I experienced with my parents. They know how much I ride, but I think they are able to be in denial about it a little bit because they don’t often see me doing it. My mom especially is incredibly anxious about my safety while riding. That is understable, given I was in a serious crash in 2008 that left me with six broken ribs and four days in the ICU, plus problems with my hips that have lingered for years and require a lot of maintenance. When I first told her I wanted to ride in Boca she was NOT happy about it. She cited the same information I mentioned earlier about cycling fatalities in South Florida. But she really came around. Maybe it was because she could see how seriously I took my own safety, or maybe seeing me prep and work on the bike demystified some of the experience for her. Or maybe it was seeing countless other cyclists out on A1A. But yesterday, as she drove me to the beach to drop me off, she remarked that it was “a beautiful day for a bike ride.” It was. -- source link