Red and the Rocket Ride

This is Red.   

Is he handsome, or what?  I was going to call him Rusty, but he just isn't that bad.  He cost $20.

 

This is our beach.  It's a mile away.  (For crows, a little less than a mile.)

When Jason introduced me to Red at Village Cycle last Friday, my inner matchmaker instantly kicked in.  It was obvious that this bike and this beach belonged together.  

Popeye is not especially happy that I have brought home a trash bike.  He is quick to point out that there is no room in the garage.  So Red stays outside by the garbage cans, out of the way, and out of sight. 

Red and the beach.  First date at last!  Monday, 3:30pm, low tide. 

In the giddy free spirit of beach cruising, I set out barefoot and helmet free.    

Ride without a helmet?  

What was I thinking?  That there wouldn't be any cars on the sidewalk?  OK, there weren't. 

But there are much more dangerous things for a mountain biker going from Shimano XTR pedals to flat footed beach cruiser. 

Two words:  Coaster brakes! 

Make that three words:  Coaster brakes! Yikes! 

As for no shoes, well, that seemed a fine idea.  Until the light turned just as I got to the crossing at A1A. 

Putting a foot down on hot pavement turned into an agonizing, two minute, tippy-toe dance.  No wonder all the beach cruiser kids ride in flip flops. 

OK, so finally.  The beach and Red, together at last!  Perfect! 

We start out toward the south, obeying the sailor's (and biker's) rule.  When there's a choice?  Upwind first!  

Except...  less than a mile, and kaBOOM!  Afternoon thunderstorms sneaking in from the north.  Holy cow!  Where did that come from?  Here's something else.  Old Red can be pretty fast when properly motivated.

On the way home, I am already plotting our next excursion.  Sadly, since I am committed to real rides most days, it could be awhile before there's time for any more frivolous low tide cruising. 

The thunderstorms of Florida are fickle creatures.  Back at home, one mile from the beach, it is bright and sunny. 

But the window has been blown for a repeat excursion today.  Best get going on the regular chores.  

Later, around 7pm, the laundry is folded and dinner prepped.  The sky is blue and the house is quiet.  No more Tour to run on TV in the background.  And no call yet from Popeye. 

Opportunity!  I hop on Red one more time (just say yes to shoes and helmet) and head again for the beach.   It's high tide, but I can check out the waves and get right back for dinnertime.

Whoa!  Look at the crowd.  What's going on?  Suddenly I remember.  A launch!  What luck!

There is the usual circus atmosphere.  Families line the railing, eating from sacks of Taco Bell, and passing out drinks from brown cardboard trays.   High tide or not, I walk Red down the ramp to the beach, threading through the crowd and onto the sand. 

The sand is soft, but rideable with a bit of effort.  Toward the north the crowd thins with the absence of condos. 

 

OK.  It's a picture perfect launch, if not the perfect picture.  (There's always someone who's missing it, right?)  

Speaking of missing out, I definitely need to get Popeye on board with this redneck beach cruiser thing!

Because the only other thing missing from this picture, is a coozie on the handlebars and a PBR.   

And that, at least, can be fixed.