Tuesday, September 25, 2007

A soldier

Friday's ride home ...

A young guy, with hip hop blaring, rips past two cyclists, one being me. My friend and I pull up alongside at the red light. The driver's side window is open but he won't look through it. I talk with my friend. The driver has perfected his angry look. He sneaks a glance at us before making his right turn.

Two houses down from a school, a soldier and his sweetheart stand in a driveway beside a car. He's dressed in full camouflage. She's draped over his shoulders, hanging heavily from him. He's standing tall, no emotion in his face.

A boy, 12 or 13 years old, pulls his bike up beside me on the sidewalk as the light turns green. I accelerate. He accelerates. Repeat. He pulls ahead. "OK then, let's go!" I say.

"How long have you been riding?" is his response. We've put the race aside for now. He has a huge smile.

I need clarification, "In my life?"

"No, just now."

"30 or 40 minutes."

"Wow, that's long."

"How about you?" I ask.

"I'm just coming from school."

"It's great that you ride your bike." I speed up.

"See ya," he says, still smiling.

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Darren J 9/25/2007 09:05:00 a.m.


Yep, sure sounds to me like a budding roadie.

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