Couchbike!

Get a bicycle. You will certainly not regret it, if you live.

Mark Twain

I wonder periodically if my obsession with bicycles indicates that there's something wrong with me. I suppose there's that unmatched thrill of moving under your own power and keeping pace with traffic, blowing past gridlock in the bike lane (while stalled car drivers look upon you with frustration and jealousy,) impromptu races with bike messengers on fixed-gear bikes (who always beat me,) cruising on a rail trail with the sun on your back while birds squawk and tweet all around you, and friendly, apron-wearing bike shop people who need no urging to launch into a discussion of the relative merits of different kinds of lube or wax poetic about the clean lines of a handmade frame. Then there are the legions of, uh...visionary bike people with time and welding skills who come up with stuff like the couchbike and then proceed to tour parts of Canada with it. The video is worth watching, with the added bonus of a Dar Williams soundtrack. An excerpt from the account of their travels:

Another time, on a dirt road, I was too afraid to apply the brakes. I should never have let us go that fast to begin with, but we had reached the point of no return. Because of the inconsistent dirt surface, I feared that braking hard could cause us to spinout. As the couch hurdled closer and closer to mach speed, all outside noises became muted. I could still here Eivind's last words. "I'm scared", he said.

"Don't be scared." I replied with a calmness that was belied by my posture in the couch. I had assumed a sort of starfish stance on the cushions, my legs and arms spread out wide in preparation for attack from all directions. No sooner had I spoke those soothing words, than our worst fears were realized. One wheel jammed and the couch spun into a donut. The world swirled around us. Strangely, at that point, everything felt very calm. This was one smooth donut.

Another noteworthy invention is the hula bike with an excellent little video (with hula music) demonstrating its use.

It's snowing right now, but writing this and seeing pictures of people cycling past idyllic countryside makes me want to bust my bike out of the basement and go for a cruise on slick streets. I miss my last town of residence, where all shapes and sorts of people could be seen transporting themselves on all manner of bike-like things any time of the day or night, rain or shine, snow or sleet. Anti-car sentiments fuel some of my bicycle-love. But there's more to it than that. Anybody, tall, short, fat, skinny or strange can get up on the saddle of any rusty wino tenspeed or super-mega-carbon-fiber-cost-my-firstborn racing rig or frankensteinian chopper creation and propel themselves out into the world. And it feels good. And you can go whatever speed you want. And you burn fat, not oil. And you can see and hear everything that's happening around you. And once you learn how to do it, you never forget.

Okay, happy time is over. Time to train for RAGBRAI.