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I FIGURED OUT a few years ago that one of the differences between all those incredible lives others tell of and my boring life has a lot to do with the telling. IN THE FIRST AUGUST following the fall purchase of our Twosday, Bike Friday had their first, ever, Homecoming. Though I’m still a devoted fan of the product and manufacturer of Bike Friday, I spend much less time thinking about my bike now than at that time. It's become a tool for travel, whereas at the time of the first Homecoming, it made us part of a movement I'd say. Thrilled with our freedom from lugging a coffin-sized, tandem bike box through airports, we jumped at the idea of a week long tour in Oregon culminating in a blowout bash with untold numbers of little wheeled cyclists in Eugene. So we took the opportunity and headed off from Houston to Oregon for a lovely, late summer's respite and some communion with like minded folks ... Friday folks. The pre-tour for the first Bike Friday Homecoming originated at a nice hotel complex close to the airport and the Bike Friday facility. The Sunday night before we departed Eugene for the coast, those on the pre-tour met up for supper at a chain restaurant near to the hotel to get acquainted and hear a general agenda of the tour. On the way to supper we met a couple from Denver, Duke and Sandy, who would become our constant road partners from Eugene to the California state line and throughout the weekend (and since, one of my daily correspondants.) After supper, we adjourned to our hotel room to assemble the tandem bike. Myself … well, I erected a Twosday, for the second time in my life, box to bike, unfortunately with my head spinning from food poisoning - in less than 45 minutes. I then spent the rest of the night talking on the porcelain telephone, as they say, and the next day curled up in the front seat of the support van. Whenever I think about the 'hassle' of putting the bike together at some destination, I remind myself that if I did it step by step from the book, for the second time, in a nice hotel, as the freight train that is food poisoning steaming up the tracks, I can do it quickly and easily when I'm hale and hearty ... and on the sidewalks of Seattle and Avignon, as well as hotel rooms all over the US. We arrived in Eugene with our long time friends, Mike and Susan, who we met on our tandem two years earlier when doing training rides for the MS 150, Houston to Austin. We still cycle weekly with them. But when we left Eugene at the end of the week, we left with three more life-long friends … Duke and Sandy and a single gent, Terry. I’m not a particularly friendly person, but out of that group of 22 strangers in our pre-tour, we struck a sold bond with these three small wheelers that endures yet. Additionally, though initially disappointed that Hanz and Lisa weren’t accompanying us on the pre-tour, as people we had already knew and loved through tandem rallies in Texas (Lisa is a native Houstonian), we got to know Alan and Teresa Scholz, who did the tour with us. Each night, on the short walks to supper, all the guys would surround Alan to talk about bikes, while all the ladies surrounded Duke. Hearing about the Scholz boys’ lives, from cycle racing to Burley trailers through the first Burley tandem and to Bike Friday, was a fascinating evening’s fare that capped the day’s incredible ride. (I don’t know what Duke had to say to keep all the ladies so enthralled.) Up and down that rolling highway overlooking the Pacific coastline we rolled along on our little wheeled bikes, from Eugene to the coast to Gold Beach, where I got my first sun burn in 30 years, in the cool, clear air of southern Oregon. Each evening we'd arrive no worse for the road, hungry and anxious for supper and a glass of California red. On the walk to supper one night, Nan was her usual unhurried self, and we found ourselves the last to leave the hotel and walking with a retired English ex-pat, Terry. I'm not young and Terry’s not that old, but he's been in the US for almost all of my life. He came here as a student and never went home. Again, here was someone whose life story made me feel like shut-in. Terry was a bike racer as a boy in England and has a garage full of custom made bikes - I think amongst the stable are four Bike Fridays. And yes, he was a rocket scientist. When the tour was over, the party was just beginning. Thursday as we arrived back in Eugene late, Nan took sick - spending time on the porcelain tellie. What a bummer! Alan had mentioned a product called the Q one night on the way to supper. The Q - the tandem that makes into a single. There was no backup plan for the day I was sick. Back in Eugene, the first day I borrowed a stoker - Sandy. All around the countryside of Eugene you could hear Duke sounding alarm as he rode in our dust behind my tandem, 'Stop that man, he’s got my wife!' The second day, I enjoyed a Pro while riding along side Terry on his fixed gear Air Friday. That man can spin! I think we hit 40 down the backside of a hill and he had no free wheel - just spun - 150 rpm? Saturday was the big day with several hundred little wheeled bikes rolling out together and about the beautiful countryside around Eugene. That evening, there was a barbecue with a band and the Bike Friday employee polo match. Beautiful people with little wheels in common. Little people on Dad's Family Tandem triple or quad. Young people, well experienced in their eighties. A diverse crowd with a love of cycling and an appreciation for the bike that lets them enjoy life to its fullest. I suspect that some could make this story a lot more interesting, but I've got the memories and several friendships that have lasted since - the story tellers can have the book rights. RELATED LINKS |