By Scoop Skupien
I’m a loner. So while I love to ride my mountain bike, I don’t like to ride with groups.
And for me, a group is anything more than one person.
So the whole “Let’s go for a ride” thing always makes me wonder if the dudes inviting me out for a ride are getting divorced and I’m going to be doing some heavy listening.
But all that fell to the wayside as the line of lights in front of me sliced down Elk Mountain Road through the darkness on a recent ASD shop ride. It was pretty cool.
There were only five of us, so it wasn’t a huge group. From the rear, the best place to ride, we looked like a flexible train speeding down the mountain. And even though I was the only one on a mountain bike with fat tires, my clever instincts and amazing skills kept me right in the pocket.
Or more than likely it was my bike.
Like anything I write about that’s non-work related, at some point, I start talking about my bike. But that’s because it’s not just a bike.
You see, it’s OranjKrush. It’s a bike that stops traffic.
In fact, a cop once pulled me over on Haywood Avenue, apparently because I passed a few stopped cars on their right-hand side, which is way better than the left, if you ask me. After talking to me about OranjKrush for about five minutes, he let me off with a warning.
It all went down basically right out front of ASD.
I pointed and told the cop, “You can buy one right there. Best decision you’ll ever make.”
He just smiled and got back into his squad car. Some people might call it a cruiser. Others might even say a paddy wagon.
Whatever you call it, I bet it’s not so much fun to ride in that it has its own hashtag.
And, after all, having fun is what life is all about. Run away from anyone – or any group – who tells you differently.
Or, better yet, ride away. All by yourself.