Tuesday, October 2, 2012

California Part V, or VI, or VII, or Something

I am getting old. I know this to be true because my youngest daughter just moved up to a 26 inch wheeled bike. Allie picked it out for the most part. Pink is her favorite color and we looked at pink bikes but she said she didn't want a bike that looked like it was right out of a box (her words, not mine). Allie wanted a white bike so we could customize it with pink cable housings, grips, and water bottle cages. Words can't adequately express how proud I am.

Shortly after we assembled the bike I went to California for work, again. San Francisco is beautiful and the weather is perfect and the food is amazing and everyone is fit and rides carbon-fiber Cervelos with full SRAM Red but I have been to California enough times that I shrug these things off with luke-warm indifference.

San Francisco still made me self-conscious over my lack of fashion sense, and I had just relayed that thought to a friend back home when I saw three men in assless leather chaps. Suddenly I didn't care I wasn't on the cutting edge of West Coast style. I like California. I'm concerned it could be devastated by an earthquake. I'm much more concerned that Iceman is five weeks away and I am not ready.

This was my first business trip where I didn't rent a bike to take advantage of riding opportunities; the logistics seemed a bit much. I did a few uninspired rides on a stationary bike in the Hyatt's workout area. I'm afraid my change in attitude is just another atrocity of getting old.


  1. Your daughter has excellent taste in color combinations!

  2. I know right, like your cross bike I think. She has Nevegal tires. I'm gushing.