I had been surfing the Web, looking for other organized riding opportunities that woudl help me get out of my own private rut. I found a group ride for women only, sponsored by another bike shop in town. A friend advised me that she had tried one of these rides and found it way too slow and puttering for her tastes. However, since this woman aspires to ride Paris-Brest-Paris in 2011, I took her advice with a smile and an entire shaker of salt. After an exploratory exchange of emails to make sure the ride would not be a hammerfest with a bunch of sleek, wiry twenty-somethings, I went ahead and marked it on my calendar.
As it turned out, I had a completely lovely time.
I rode to the shop in time to sign the release form, have introductions all around and talk through the selected course. Today's ride was an "easy" ride at a social pace, and gave us about an 18-mile loop around the city. I was one of the youngest women in the group -- but not by very many years. Ages ranged from a forty-year-old ride co-leader to a woman in her sixties. In between were the rest of us.
The ride itself was refreshing. Average speed on the flats ranged between 10 and 13 mph, which is just about where I like it. We enjoyed the spring flowers beginning to bloom everywhere, and noted that the rain was warmer now than it had been a few weeks ago.
While riding through the Pearl District, we passed a man who was pushing a shopping cart filled to overflowing with empty bottles and cans; he was clearly taking them to the store for the deposit money. As I passed, a strong gust of wind forced the cart into an awkward turn, and suddenly there was a resounding clatter and shattering of glass. Bottles and cans flew in every direction. We slowed down, and our ride leader asked if we'd like to stop and help the man. We all said yes, so we turned around, parked our bikes and ran to help the poor fellow collect his booty before it got away. He was grateful and I felt better for having helped him. (I remember what it was like to live on bottle and can deposits during my "lean" period in Waldport, so I knew he was looking at a lot of money lost if he didn't get those empties back. It's a hell of a way to make money.)
The ride ended at a coffee shop where we had snacks and talked. I had a nice talk with the other ride leader, a retired attorney who now works part-time at the sponsoring bike shop. I finally let it slip in conversation where I worked. D asked if I had benefits at my shop. I explained to her how our healthcare reimbursement works. She suggested I consider coming to work at her bike shop; I could have health benefits (including dental and vision) by working just thirty hours a week. Of course, I'd likely have to work Saturdays, and year-round employment would be more of a crapshoot in a shop where I was working FOR someone else. I shrugged and smiled. While the truth is that I would LOVE to have something resembling real benefits at my job, I fear that working in a cooperative has virtually ruined me for working in a traditionally hierarchical workplace ever again; I enjoy the autonomy and cooperation far too much to just walk away.
After coffee and snacks, several of the women planned to go back to the shop to look at The New Spring Apparel Line. (Of course that IS part of the purpose of these rides. I'm fine with that.) I begged off, saying that I had to get home. And of course, I don't fit most women's-specific cycling clothing anyway, and then there's the part about not really needing/wanting to buy any more stuff just now. Marketing aside, I found that I really enjoyed the ride and met some super-nice folks who may well become new riding buddies for me.
Total distance (including riding there and home again): 23.6 miles.
After an exploratory exchange of emails to make sure the ride would not be a hammerfest with a bunch of sleek, wiry twenty-somethings, I went ahead and marked it on my calendar.
As it turned out, I had a completely lovely time.
I rode to the shop in time to sign the release form, have introductions all around and talk through the selected course. Today's ride was an "easy" ride at a social pace, and gave us about an 18-mile loop around the city.
I was one of the youngest women in the group -- but not by very many years. Ages ranged from a forty-year-old ride co-leader to a woman in her sixties. In between were the rest of us.
The ride itself was refreshing. Average speed on the flats ranged between 10 and 13 mph, which is just about where I like it. We enjoyed the spring flowers beginning to bloom everywhere, and noted that the rain was warmer now than it had been a few weeks ago.
While riding through the Pearl District, we passed a man who was pushing a shopping cart filled to overflowing with empty bottles and cans; he was clearly taking them to the store for the deposit money. As I passed, a strong gust of wind forced the cart into an awkward turn, and suddenly there was a resounding clatter and shattering of glass. Bottles and cans flew in every direction. We slowed down, and our ride leader asked if we'd like to stop and help the man. We all said yes, so we turned around, parked our bikes and ran to help the poor fellow collect his booty before it got away. He was grateful and I felt better for having helped him. (I remember what it was like to live on bottle and can deposits during my "lean" period in Waldport, so I knew he was looking at a lot of money lost if he didn't get those empties back. It's a hell of a way to make money.)
The ride ended at a coffee shop where we had snacks and talked. I had a nice talk with the other ride leader, a retired attorney who now works part-time at the sponsoring bike shop. I finally let it slip in conversation where I worked. D asked if I had benefits at my shop. I explained to her how our healthcare reimbursement works. She suggested I consider coming to work at her bike shop; I could have health benefits (including dental and vision) by working just thirty hours a week. Of course, I'd likely have to work Saturdays, and year-round employment would be more of a crapshoot in a shop where I was working FOR someone else. I shrugged and smiled. While the truth is that I would LOVE to have something resembling real benefits at my job, I fear that working in a cooperative has virtually ruined me for working in a traditionally hierarchical workplace ever again; I enjoy the autonomy and cooperation far too much to just walk away.
After coffee and snacks, several of the women planned to go back to the shop to look at The New Spring Apparel Line. (Of course that IS part of the purpose of these rides. I'm fine with that.) I begged off, saying that I had to get home. And of course, I don't fit most women's-specific cycling clothing anyway, and then there's the part about not really needing/wanting to buy any more stuff just now. Marketing aside, I found that I really enjoyed the ride and met some super-nice folks who may well become new riding buddies for me.
Total distance (including riding there and home again): 23.6 miles.