Absence really does make the heart grow fonder.
On Friday, it had been six weeks since I last rode the Lapierre. Oh sure, there have been chilly evening trail rides and boardwalk runs in the interim, but the Lapierre’s lithe carbon frame has been gathering dust, her tires flattening.
What can I say? It’s November. It’s dark, it’s cold, it’s often raining.
But when Friday dawned brightly sunny and dry, the siren call of Lapierre’s sexy curves enticed me. At first I resisted. It was still cold, barely beyond freezing. And I had things to do, a movie I wanted to see.
“Do both,” said Katie, who was home sick for the day.
Why not, I thought.
So I layered up, found my warmest cycling socks, retrieved my booties, pumped up the Lapierre’s tires, lightly lubed her chain and shortly after the end of the morning rush hour we were reacquainted.
It took only a few strokes of the pedal to renew our bond. The chilled air tickled my nostrils, the low, angled sunlight bedazzled my eyes. My legs rejoiced.
There were no great ambitions for this ride, just be home by lunch; 50 kilometers in my legs started to feel the long layoff.
But there’s always something magical about the first ride after a period away from the bike, a renewed familiarity and comfort like meeting up with an old friend. And after a handful of rides on the heavier, more lumbering mountain bike, the lightness and responsiveness of the road machine fuels the adrenaline rush.
Thank you Lapierre. Thank you sunshine.