Just want to ride.

21 Oct

I met Eleanor on night a long time ago, when I was someone different and I was with someone different. It was dark outside and I didn’t ride as much as I had when I was 15 – underage for a license and little access to public transport. In fact, the night I met Eleanor, I dont even think she rode for any other reason than to get to work. I had a bike, Norkie. I loved it, my husband bought it for me so it meant something too. It was a fairly mainstream, uncustomised Norco mountain bike that I helped see some miles – intermittently.

That was nearly four years ago, and a lot has changed.

The night turned to day. The marriage to a divorce. The naked skin to inked, scarred human machine. The Norco stolen to be replaced with anger. Eleanor went from an acquaintance to one of my best friends.

I could go into all the shit that went down but its wah-wah, I’m not really caring for melancholy and you, dear reader, do not need to be bored into clicking that red cross in the top right corner. Ultimately I ended up with a hand-built single speed called Abe. I discovered Melbourne had a bike community and armed with my gal Eleanor showed up to Ladies Who Leisure.

That was only over a month ago and now here you are, reading the Sugar Spokes blog and looking at photos of Melbourne femme fatales, including Eleanor and chicks who just want to ride. Like gravity, a natural phenomenon by which objects with mass attract one another, the evolution of the wheel has led to pink logos and Thursday rides with a growing group of babes who grin when they see each other.

We’ve copped a bit of shit, not a lot, but comments like “get back in the kitchen you lesbian”, “do a skid hipster faggot” and “only dykes ride bikes” – mostly the comments are derogatory and about our sex, the kind of sex we have and if we’ll have sex with them. We’re never sure how to respond because bewilderment got our tongue. What do you say to that? What’s with all the sex?

We’ve tipped into the debate about hipsters – what are they and can they fuck? Hey, it’ll rage a little longer and there’s that sex thing again, and in my experience hipster is just talk about all talk and no action. Ride, wear a helmet and pull your pants up. We’ve obviously started talk with the all female thing, but I think we’re here to stay so dont think so much and lets work towards co-ed and go for a ride. It aint the Year 9 Social. We can go down the fixed skidding thing but I’m still learning to ride without hands, want to teach me?

We ride in the rain, we ride without hands, we ride with helmets, we ride like dykes, we ride like heteros, we ride as vegans, we ride with cigarettes, we ride in vans, we ride in heels, we ride with Beyonce, we ride with McClusky, we ride fixed, we ride single, we ride geared. But most of all, we just ride.

Things change. You go from riding Vespas to riding bikes, from being married to divorced, from being gay to straight, from being wealthy to poor, from being sad to happy, from acquaintance to friend. Boom. Just like that. Change is inevitable. And here it is. Here is my grateful, heart in my hands, ode to the group of hotties I roll with every Thursday:

Because of this desire to turn a revolution of the wheel, the evolution is…Sugar Spokes. Like Madonna said..You may be my lucky star, but I’m the luckiest by far.

So… see you lovely lady, at FedSq, 6.00pm Thursday. Its the sweetest ride you’ll ever have.

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One Response to “Just want to ride.”

  1. helmets are hot October 21, 2009 at 7:54 am #

    Dude. You ring my bell.

    I love my bike, and you’re totally right, I never really rode much before I met you/whatshisface. Haven’t looked back since, but.

    And I sure as sugar love it now. Things change. And you get tough and you get soft in your own way.

    I don’t want to get she-motional about the whole thing, but if I’m prepared to over-intellectualise things, getting into riding has been a real change of attitude for me. I guess I grew up in a family where girls read books and had dance classes and played sport with all the contact taken out. It’s a surprisingly small deal but riding is one of the few places where I feel really simple and present. Nothing to think about before and nothing to think about after. Just riding.

    Feels good. There’s road in Radelaide too, you know…

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