Sometimes you just have to...

First let me say that I am not some commuting tough-guy. Hell, I hardly EVER run into another rider on either side of my commute- except for the occasional bum riding to the liquor store (and those guys are always cool for the most part). But I am pretty proud of the fact that I've been commuting in a town of almost no bike commuters and I hold my own on bad roads with drivers who hardly ever have to deal with cyclists (and they behave accordingly- I was almost run off of a narrow road by a cop the other day if that tells you anything).

... But I recently got a road bike. That changes EVERYTHING.

Well not really. But it does mean that I can go slightly faster than I could previously on the Royce Union mountain bike that I ghetto-ized into a pseudo-commuter with slicks, locked-out and completely removed suspension (front and back respectively) and other assorted commuting toys.

All that aside, I bought a 1989 Trek 330 in January and I can really tell the difference in my riding. Mostly in the amount of flat tires I get- but that is neither here nor there. The reason for this already long winded account is my new nemesis; Another commuter. And he is a formidable foe.

I've only seen him on my trip three times now and the first time was when I was walking my bike to get a ride with a friend after running over a giant roofing nail on my way into work. The tire was torn and the tube irreparable. He flew past me with a gleeful look and disappeared. The second time was as he took up the whole shoulder of the road and I had to pass him by jumping into the traffic lane. I thought nothing of it- it was something I did all the time to get around slow moving bums.

Today was different.

I was pulling out of the parking lot of my place of employment. I usually just check for traffic on the crossroad and when clear blow by the stop sign into a small downhill (Very small- this IS Florida) right turn. Not legal, but fun. So today I see another cyclist as I approach the stop sign. I'm always happy to see a fellow two-wheeled, human-powered vehicle, so I slow to a quick stop and wait for him to pass. But I recognize the person atop that bike. It was the same guy who whizzed by me while I carried my lame bicycle earlier that week- Off I go from the intersection in the same gear I always seem to be in while I cruise along on my flat-land commute. He's riding an unrecognizable mountain bike and not exactly speeding along so I check over my shoulder for traffic and accelerate. There is no traffic so I overtake him with a wide berth into the lane and don't even think to give the normal "on yer right" salutation. On I ride thinking nothing of it.

Apparently I awoke a sleeping beast. A large, long-haired and suspended sleeping beast by this action- He was coming for me like a nightmare. 30 or 40 yards later I hear the familiar sound of rotating chain and cogs as he slips past me... Much like I had just nonchalantly glided past him. Before I have time to even think about what is happening (remember NO ONE here commutes and this is the first time someone has even tried to go around me on a bike) he is ahead of me and is spinning like mad.

At last. A challenge.

Well not really, but what the hell, some dude on his mountain bike just dropped me- and here I am on a road bike. This sort of thing just doesn't happen! (or it shouldn't if I believed what I read on the road bike forums).

So I smile quite big. I actually chortle as he pulls ahead of me. Not out of conceitedness. Hardly. Actually I was just happy that someone on a bicycle FINALLY had the ability to get ahead of me.

At this point I should tell you that I'm a 32 year old guy. And I smoke. Like a freaking chimney I smoke. I'd love to stop but I'm a monkey and this monkey likes his tobacco. Also- until 8 months ago I was completely out of shape and weighed 50 pounds more than I do now... With that said...

HE AWOKE THE GORILLA (the gorilla inside the monkey you see)

I reach toward my downtube shifter and click it forward a notch. "Let's see if this bastard can do 90 rpm's with a 42X16" (another lame Back To The Future reference, sorry).

30 yards and I was past him. And I keep spinning. And spinning. And spinning. And... (a mile later: )
"Holy crap I think I'm going to die"

The world goes a bit wonky and I decide that I need to slow down a bit. I take a quick look back and my nemesis is nowhere to be seen. "Thank f*****g god" I say under my breath (which is coming in gasps and tobacco riddled rattles)


I pull into where my friend works- the one whom I regularly get a ride home with- because after spending 8 hours a day hefting sofas at a furniture store I'm too tired to even think about doing another 7 mile ride home. I'm sweating like a man my age who smokes too much should be, and I try to catch my breath before walking inside the office to get her keys so I can load my "sort of vintage" bike into her trunk...

And I smile.

That was fun.

(All of the above is related quite tongue-in-cheek but true. Commuting is a battlefield )