So, realising that I still needed a bike for commuting, I sprang for the Trek 7.3FX, which flies along like a road bike but has the hardiness to handle Brisbane’s pot-holed streets. And importantly, is not white. Ironically, I'd taken this bike for a test ride a while ago and liked it, but had MTB on the brain. I got some basic stuff (pump, lights, water bottle cage, lock) but have since realised I won’t get far in my commute quest without a rack and pannier. And tools. The wisdom of getting toe clips or cleats has also been pointed out to me and I suspect I’ll soon be hearing about the virtues of gel pants, special shoes and assorted lycra wardrobery.
Yesterday, after an afternoon river loop ride with lunch at the Japanese Garden at Mt Coot-tha (and a quick dash and grab through the herbarium – I blame my mother for my botanical banditry) I rode to the supermarket. On the way home, I passed the Critical Mass riders – bike enthusiasts who ride every month in a kind of ‘reclaim the roads’ demonstration of pedal power. They spied my white flashing light and binged their bells at me in a kind of mating ritual, saying “join us, join us!” … I smiled and continued on home to fridge my dairy, slightly suspicious of their hippy bike-love happiness.
I have entered the cult of bike...
