Riding Around In My Underpants, I Honk Like a Goose

OK, here goes... pictured below is the back of my office door with my cycling clothes hanging on it.I wear the shorts underneath the pants. On days when it is below freezing, I wear them under my heavier, cold weather pants:

One day several months ago, my winter cycling pants were swallowed by a renegade laundry mound at home. I couldn't find them and was running late for work. They are the only cycling pants I own. It was way too cold for just shorts. In desperation, I put on the only thing I could find:

Now, I can hear you saying, "Rantwick, what the hell is wrong with you? What's wrong with a regular pair of pants?" You are absolutely right in that I could have worn normal pants. I have come to really dislike wearing normal clothes on the bike, so much so that wearing normal pants didn't even occur to me at the time. As it turns out, that was a good thing. Sort of.

On days that it is just above freezing, my heavier pants are too hot. I don't own any regular, warm weather cycling tights. These long undies keep my legs just warm enough, while breathing really well. If it is cold enough to wear them it is also cold enough to wear my jacket, and my jacket covers both the waistband and the "fly", so nobody knows (until now). They fit just like any pair of stretchy athletic tights. So, call me a freak (and I know you will), I have continued to wear them when the temperature is between 0 and 10 C or so. Anything above that and I break out the brightie whities (legs with cycling shorts, I mean. I'm not that freaky just yet).

Sharing this kind of embarrassing information is a bizarre character trait of mine. It is not limited to this blog stuff either. If I have something I'm ashamed of or something I fear will make me look bad or invite teasing or criticism from others, I end up telling people all about it. I think it is a defense mechanism. It is much easier to poke fun at something another person has attempted to keep secret as opposed to something they just up and told you. It kind of takes the fun out of it. This is cool with Mrs. Rantwick, because although it means that I frequently embarrass her by association, it also means I am incapable of keeping secrets from her. If I decide to keep something secret from her, it is a sure thing that making that very decision will have me telling her about it within 24 hours.

So anyway, I was riding to work in my underpants this morning and found myself behind a car that was failing to get going when presented with an advanced green. So I honked. I have no horn or bell on my bike. I prefer to use my voice when I need attention and it works well when you're willing to really speak up or even yell. I've never honked before though, and it turns out that I am more Canadian than I ever guessed...

So there you have it for this Monday. I wish I could promise something normal or interesting for next time, but I honestly don't know what's gonna come next.

Helpless in the face of my own freakishness, I remain:

Yer Pal,

R A N T W I C K

I Rode on the Sidewalk and a Miracle Happened

I've ridden on the sidewalk twice lately. The first time's circumstances are too complicated to relate other than to say it was the only way to get at some takeout Pad Thai (I have a freakishly strong liking for Pad Thai) without riding around an entire extra block. I don't normally ride on the sidewalk for any reason any more. It had been so long that it felt weird and dangerous and annoying. The annoying part is the steady bump-bump created by the seams between concrete sidewalk pads. Why would anyone willingly put up with that? The weird and dangerous was that when I was on this particular sidewalk I was riding against traffic, across driveways for both homes and businesses. It felt so very unpredictable, unlike the street. I pretty much know what's going to happen on the street. I swore I wouldn't do it again any time soon. So...

Only a couple of days later, I did it again. This time it made more sense, because it was only a short distance to get to a button activated crosswalk where I would normally dismount and walk my bike across Wellington Road. There is no proper (light controlled) intersection anywhere near this crossing point. Wellington Road after work is pretty much uncrossable or even merge-able for me on my bike. I'm a strong rider in traffic, but the way this street flows at this particular point scares me off vehicular cycling in this particular case. So, I use the crosswalk button and walk my bike across, like I said.

Here's the thing: a Miracle Happened. The Miracle was that traffic parted without explanation, allowing me to ride across Wellington. This was around 5PM! You would have to live near this spot to appreciate how miraculous this really was, but here it is:

Now I don't want to look a miracle-horse in the mouth, but I was saddened to learn how I respond to miraculous events. "Holy Shit"? Is that any way to respond to a Miracle? I think not! I almost hope I never witness any miracles where people or, heaven forbid, divine entities are around, because I don't want to be the slack-jawed Gomer who can only think to say something both unbefitting and crude. Know thyself, I guess.

I'm gonna start practicing my stunned silence face or some other phrase just so I'll be prepared for profound events with something better than "Holy Shit". Even "well I'll be!" would be better, but I'm thinking something like "woah, that is so cool" will suit me best. Or the stunned silence thing. I can't decide. Silence has never gotten me in trouble yet, but I'm not very good at it. I welcome your suggested profound event catch phrases if you think there's something good I could use. If they contain bad words, please don't bother... that's what I'm trying to get away from.

Wishing you Miracles both Small and Insanely Large,

R A N T W I C K