The human mind is a beautiful thing, isn’t it? It can create logic where there is none. An example of this–and I leave it to you to confirm how logical it sounds–was the purchase of my new bike. I knew I wanted a bike because even though I did bring Becky (my car) with me to NYC, I didn’t plan on using her much due to the ridiculous price of gas. At the same time, walking and taking the subway everywhere was not always the best option for most tasks. So why not get a bike?

Logical. It oozes logic, right? Now the underlying reason is a bit more debatable. I have this reoccurring dream of the older me riding around the streets of Manhattan in my motorcycle. Motorcycles are dangerous apparently, thus getting a bicycle would prepare me for my future two-wheeled vehicle dragon, right?

Don’t judge.

My journey started and ended with Craigslist. I found a man named Eric who took in older bikes and remade them and sold them back for a reasonable price. A few pictures of the bikes that he had posted had got my heart thumping rapidly so I knew I must visit the southern Brooklyn shop. Three words: It was amazing. As far as the eye could see there mounds and mounds of bikes hanging like bats from the rafters. I gave him my measurements for the right sized bike and he brought out five bikes that he thought I would like. After a few test rides, I fell in love with Sally, my tan Ross road bike.

Getting back on was a bit strange. I hadn’t ridden in forever. Jumping on the v-shaped seat gave me the feeling of time traveling to my wonder years and I immediately remembered how exhilarating a bike was. I began pedaling so hard that my legs became a blur and when the time was right, I hit the breaks as hard as I can.

I learned two things from that: the breaks were fine and I could have nearly killed myself.

The End.