It happened again. The elegant little lady whispered the question to me in the Garden Club's driveway. " Victoria, when do you get your license back?" This time I was ready with an answer, unlike the first time that puzzling question appeared. I explained to her that I HAD a bona fide drivers' license. It had never been taken away for alcoholic indiscretion.
I understood that in her experience there were only a few categories of regular urban bikers. There were the wolfpack bikers who zoom by in spandex and reflector shades and the folks who had lost their license. Of course, there were the occasional Gen X riders on one speed steeds and the Yuppie family out for a lark on beach cruisers, but I was obviously not in either of those groups.
Isn't it sad that there are so few folks who use bikes as their regular transport that anyone who rides regularly is suspect? I tried to explain that I was a P.I.E person, someone who personally integrated exercise into real life. I walk, carry buckets of water and lift huge sacks of cow manure in the garden. As David Reynolds, my teacher, was fond of saying, " Effort is good fortune." I believe that. I truly do.
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