My BIke

I probably have a few thousand photo’s of bicycles. I definitely have way more pictures of bikes than I do friends or family. Well, not entirely true, I have over 10,000 pictures of my daughter. And she’s only 3! My wife and daughter tie for the only thing in this life I love more than bikes. Ok, that’s not entirely true, but I’m being dramatic to make a point.

The thing I find the best about being a bicycle messenger, BM from here on out, is you eat, drink and sleep with your bike. You get up in the morning and usually have a thing or two to take care of before leaving. Oil the chain, pump up the tires. (sometimes change a the phantom flat that mysteriously happens only at night while you sleep) Then you ride to work on your bike. And you spend all day riding your bike everywhere a BM’s life takes them.

Quitting time. Get in your car, go home take a shower, back in the car and out to the movies with friends. NOT. Your sweaty, stinking self just rides to the nearest bar, or in a BM’s case, the nearest bar serving PBR pints for a dollar and meet all your friends who are mostly sweaty stinky BM’s also. Then if you all have plans they are attending via bicycle. Doesn’t matter if you stay out all night long, you do it on your bike.

I remember once staying downtown with James hanging out and it got to be 10:30PM. I asked James if I could crash at his place. He only lived a few blocks away and it was late, and I lived 25 miles north. He said, “No, I live in a festering craphole. I’m going home and getting my bike lights and we will ride north to your place.” So we did. We got home a little after midnight. But I will tell you that was one of the best rides of my life. Dark, quiet, no one on the road.

A lot of people throughout the years have insisted on giving me rides in their car. I usually decline. I just love to ride. As do most messengers, and unlike Lance, it IS ALL ABOUT THE BIKE.