Several years ago, in July, my brother had his family up from Florida visiting my mom. I had One Helluva Ride early in the morning (100 miles starting in Chelsea, MI and rolling through Hell, MI and back to Chelsea), so I stopped by on the way home to say hello. After a fair amount of conversation, my brother said mom had told him I rode 100 miles with my friends earlier in the day… he asked if I was nuts. I assured him I was quite sane and explained 100 miles on my $6,000 road bike wasn’t quite what he remembered when he drifted back to riding a dozen miles on our 35 pound steel Murray Baja’s back when we were kids. He asked to see it, so I took him out and pulled my amazing race steed from the back of my SUV.
As one would expect, for anyone who thought top of the line was an aluminum mountain bike, his eyes popped open in shock. I offered for him to pick it up (I think it was around 17-1/2 pounds at the time). His jaw dropped. I smiled. He asked if he could give it a spin and I said, “absolutely”.
He threw a leg over the top tube, put a foot on one of the Look pedals as if it were a regular platform pedal, and pushed off to do a lap around the cul-de-sac… and I looked on in sheer horror as he damn near toppled over in the first five feet. He wobbled dramatically, trying to hold on to the intractable steed. It was the ugliest “bike ride” I’d ever seen – the closest I’ve ever seen to whiskey throttling a bicycle. He wobbled around the cul-de-sac a little more, a look of determined panic set across his face… he couldn’t figure out how to put a foot down with the saddle pegged so high. He slowed to a crawl and tilted the bike, putting his right foot out to stop gravity doing its thing… and the gambit worked. Curse words followed, then “How in the f*** did you ride that 100 f***ing miles!”
Note to new cyclists: Jumping from a mountain bike, where the handlebar is a little higher than the saddle to a performance race bike where the saddle is 5″ above the handlebar is a bit of a stretch. Especially when you haven’t ridden a bicycle in 25 years. I would recommend not starting out with the bicycle aimed at a fence.
If you think I’m being silly, just in case, you should probably have someone video tape it. Some $#!+ is worth seeing over and over and over again.
Ride hard, my friends.
Fit Recovery 
Happy New Year to you and yours, Jim.
And to you as well, my friend. I’m halfway through your latest post… couldn’t make it all the way through before heading to the office. 😉
Most common remarks I get about my bikes is how can I sit on a tiny narrow saddle and that my shoes actually are locked onto the pedals. But I’ve never had anyone ask to ride one either.
Well, it was my little brother… well, not so little anymore, but you know what I mean. I get the narrow saddle question a lot, too.
omg, that’s hilarious, and scary! What happens if he would have scratched it?! 🙂
I have touch up paint… the scary part is what happens if he cracked the frame? Thankfully, all ended well!
That’s what went through my head. And with the gif, I have to be honest, I was afraid to keep reading! LOL! Glad it’s all good. . .
[…] Because Nobody Ever Whiskey Throttled a Road Bike… A Funny Cycling Story for a Tuesday. […]
[…] a beach cruiser. In a post a while back, I also stated (humorously, of course) that nobody has ever whiskey throttled a race bike. People, lots of them, have whiskey throttled an eBike, though. I went on, in the first post, to […]