"Feel the sun on your face and the wind in your hair. Get fit. Save money," the ads promise. Back in '07, leading up to the Vancouver World Naked Bike Ride, the promotional blurbs invited anyone so inclined to "strip off, and ride through the city en masse." Up here we may not be ready to ride fully exposed through the streets but we're on the right track anyway.
The District of 老澳门六合彩开奖记录资料 recently announced the opening of a section of the Corridor Trail, the first of three segments to be completed. With more bike lanes planned, all the way from Valleycliffe to Cheekye, we'll literally be on a roll.
In Whistler, downhill riding is the newest cycling derivative.
It caters to enthusiasts whose bikes are outfitted with springs and shocks on virtually every moving part and who are decked out in suits of armour that would put a marauding band of conquistadors to shame.
Speaking of peddle power, a few weeks back I was merrily hauling my nacho puffed paunch up behind Alice Lake when I felt the distinct thumping sound of a flat rear tire. Not to worry, I figured. I checked my pump and rifled through the patch kit.
All the goodies were there: four patches of various sizes, a small piece of sandpaper, and a tube of glue. After taking the wheel off the bike, I yanked the tube out of the tire. I filled it with a few strokes of air to find where the leak was hiding and roughed the area with the sandpaper. I grabbed the appropriate patch, opened the glue and pressed, and pressed some more. Instead of a stream of sticky adhesive I got a tiny puff of air. Somehow, after three years of waiting for action, the glue had dried out.
A few choice expletives later, I fastened the reassembled wheel into the frame and readied myself for the inevitable hour and a half Bike Pushing 101 course back to my homestead in sunny Brackendale. Along the trail, groups of fellow travellers sped by me. Some looked around to locate the turnip truck from which I had recently toppled. That is until three riders pulled up and inquired whether they could be of assistance. I told the trio that I didn't want to hold them up.
But they insisted, so I informed them of my plight. Whereupon one of the lads reached into a fanny pack and pulled out a patch kit containing the aforementioned sticky substance. Off came the wheel again, out came the inner tube and with a quick squirt of glue and a few minutes of pressure on the patch the tube was ready for reassembly. After thanking my rescuers profusely, I slapped the wheel back in place and rolled home in record time.
And therein lies one of this town's greatest allures. Nobody cares if your bike has more springs than a Sealy Posturepedic mattress, or you can do wheelies in the buff. Even if you're completely glueless, somebody will usually stick up for you in the Shining Valley.
