Jon pays attention to items like gears and brakes and wheels. My top two criteria are colour and shape. Thanks for asking — cherry red. Cheery, and hides blood stains - I haven't been on a bike since the last century. I might be a road hazard.
'Twas not ever thus. At age 10 I had the fastest bike in our blessedly flat neighbourhood. That little Raleigh Racer took no prisoners but life dealt me a harsh blow when I outgrew it and my parents replaced it with an enormous boy’s bike. You only have to come down on that bar once. My new bike is happily built with girls in mind but with a different design flaw. If God had meant us to use hand brakes to stop, He wouldn't have given us feet to drag.
That wasn't the only shock of the day. There was the insult of hills (this province has a lot to answer for) and the resultant necessity of gears. Everybody knows that the best approach to ascent is to walk your bike up. It's dignified and allows for casual botanizing. But oh no. Moreover what's to prevent someone from braking when she meant to change gears? Nothing. I know this for a fact.
But today I rode about five miles without falling off. Yeah Team. As we descended the hill behind the college I was haunted by the memory of Jon's near collision with a doe there several years ago. Oh dear, but no deer today. I take this as a message that I should give up cycling now before my luck changes. This little gal must have grown up by now; built like a big furry tank, she may be roaming the river valley stalking cyclists. On the other hand she's not threatening "fire and fury." I'll take my chances with nature, thank you very much.