By Leah Ashe
Buffalo, NY – The plan was to borrow my friend Kevin's top-notch road bike. It had those sleek aero-style handlebars and snap-in foot clips that would turn me into a cog of kinetic efficiency. It was bright yellow and had 21 gears, a speedometer, and an rpm gauge.
Another friend, Katherine, had invited me to join her for a triathlon in southern Indiana, about four hours south of our collegiate home at Notre Dame. Ours had an advance planning factor on par with most college trips: pretty close to nil. We'd just pick up Kevin's bike the night before, strap our gear to the back of the car, and hit Highway 31 with "Eye of the Tiger" announcing our passage through the great Midwest cornfield.
That was the plan, anyway.
Turns out that Kevin's bike didn't come close to accommodating my 5'5" frame, and I had suspicions about my own garage sale special, much as I loved it, going the distance -- which, in this case, measured precisely 40 km. Thus began, a few hours before departure, my comically last-minute search for a triathlon-worthy bike. My pal Michelle came through with her ten-speed: a little old, she said, but it was in good shape, and it was just my size.
Katherine and I hit the road, pumped up to Survivor, arranged our gear at the transition station, squished our heads into color-coded swim caps, and at dawn jumped into the freezing reservoir for the start of the race.
Twenty-something minutes later I was hopping on Michelle's loaner for an adrenaline-assisted ride through the "Little Smoky Mountains" of Brown County. Now, Michelle had mentioned that the bike was a little old, and -- God bless her for lending it to me -- but I had realized a bit too late a detail she hadn't shared: the bike could no longer change gears. The ten-speed was a one-speed.
Doggedly enthusiastic nonetheless, I pedaled feverishly, chugging up climbs like the Little Engine That Could and spinning madly on the descents. The plan had me cruising effortlessly by the professional triathletes on Kevin's sleek yellow roadie. As they say in the Hertz Rent-a-Car commercial: "Not exactly." I did, however, manage to finish the bike, and the run, and win first prize in my age category. My victory would have been more impressive had there been more than two competitors.
And that was my introduction to cycling.
In the last few years, I've embraced cycling as a mode of transportation. I toss a skirt and a sandwich in my backpack and I'm good to go just about anywhere. Last week I broke out my Trek from its winter hibernation in the basement and tested the ride to my new job. It was all I could ask for: zero environmental impact, a pass on my daily trip to the gym, a 45 minute sunrise encounter with the day . . . and 15 fully functioning gears.
Listener-Commentator Leah Ashe lives in South Buffalo.