Celebrating 30 Years

This Christmas celebrates my 30th year of riding. I was a senior in High School in California, and my sister bought me a used Nishiki from the lost and found from the beach club in Malibu where she worked.
I was a band geek and rather non-athletic, though I had played little league baseball for 6 years.
The bike was blue, had two sets of brake levers, shifters on the handlebar stem (or gooseneck) and platform pedals.
I lived in a canyon that had lots of hills. The general region was yet undeveloped and rural, with lots of cow and horse ranches. We even had coyotes and mountain lions.
I did short rides and talked two buddies into a day long ride which went bad when one of them crashed hard after touching wheels. Good thing it happened in front of a fire station. My two friends were turned off from riding but I kept at it, going on excursion rides as often as I could.
By the time I headed off to college in Illinois in the fall of 1980 I felt like a rider. I now had only one set of brake levers, toe clips with straps, and had moved the shifters to the down tube.
I soon became friends with 3 other riders, one of which was my age and was from Escondido, just a few hours south of my home. I remember my first pace line and long ride, a 60 miler through the Illinois countryside. I died in my pulls and finally collapsed on the side of the road, having to be talked in on the ride back to school. There was a dance later that night but I was dead to the world in my dorm room. I had also turned my head only one way to look for traffic and my neck was so STIFF.
I spent two years in Illinois, and my rides included that epic, plus a ride through a controlled burn, a flat that resulted in me walking miles back to school to be finally picked up by a teacher out looking for his wife who was running, being hit by some kids in a car, and my first crash the day before spring break, on a sharp right hand turn on a wet road, that left me with a rasberry on my right hip that bothered me all during a week of skiing in Tahoe. My first and only attempt at skiing. I also did my first race in St. Louis in February, 1981, a crit that was for the public. It was soooooo cold but I finished. Not last but definitely not first as it took me a long time to strap in. My friend won the race. We had lots of inspiration from watching Breaking Away the night before.
I transferred to UCLA in 1982 and kept up my riding, even entering a few crits as a cat 4. I did not like the elbow to elbow action so left my riding to day long adventures. The Nishiki was stolen from my parents garage (my mom thought she had closed the garage door) in the summer of 1982 and I ended up getting a 1972 Condor with Campy Record 5 speed. My first "real" bike and the start of my love affair with Campagnolo.
I took up running in 1983 and soon began triathlons. I competed in triathlons from 1983 thru 1986, but did do a 1/2 Ironman in Maryland in 2002. I lost my desire to bike race (due to the bad experience with crits), thought I kept putting in lots of saddle time, and began focusing on running marathons. I completed 52 marathons (PR of 3:01:22 in Sacrament in 1991) and two ultras (50k and 37.5 miler) between 1986 and 2004.
I moved to Washington state in 2003 and rediscovered bike racing in 2004. My running form disappeared about that time and I have been nothing but a roadie since.
However, I have started running some again and have hopes of doing the Marine Corps Marathon in 2010 which falls on my 48th b-day.
Anyway, to recap. In the last 30 years I lave ridden thousands of miles, have had a few incidents of road rage, have been very fortunate with my accidents (nothing broken despite being knocked unconscious in one race in 2007), have had over 35 bikes (now down to 5), have ridden broken hearted and light hearted, have composed sonnets, songs, poems and love letters, have ridden with friends and by myself, have had truly epic rides, have ridden in California, Oregon, Washington, Canada, Colorado, New Mexico, Oklahoma, Arkansas, Maryland, Virginia and Washington, D.C., have ridden in sub zero temps, near hurricane conditions, snow hail, pouring rain and 113 degree heat. I have ridden in the lowest point in the U.S. (Badwater in Death Valley) and up the highest paved road in the Continental U.S. (Mt Evans in Colorado). I wouldn't have missed a single moment for the world. I hope to have at least another 30 years in me.
The bicycle is the greatest invention on this planet.
Long live the bike!!!!!
Ty (aka Saddledancer)