After a few weeks of cold weather (well, cold by Georgia standards) and some enforced helmet-free time thanks to some dermatological excavation on my head (Mohs microsurgery for skin cancer; it’s the one where they keep digging until they find a house payment…), I was itching to throw my leg over the bike. So it was a treat to see “64” on the thermometer today. I wasn’t alone: I saw everything from cruisers to sportbikes to dual-sports, all waving happily under the blue skies.
I rode for a few miles behind a pickup truck with three pre-teen girls in the back seat, waving at me. I’m sure they didn’t know I was a girl (too bad: it would be good for them to know they can do this too, someday). Funny — I’d never respond in a car, but I waved back to them several times. I wondered what their parents would say: “don’t encourage the hoodlum!”
I take pride in my girly ponytail flapping out the back of my helmet. On afternoon rides, as the sun sinks, I can see it in my rolling shadow. Take that: I’m no sissy.