"Picked up a cross country cyclist at the Library. We're now at City Market getting a catfish."
I wasn't surprised, really.
But I don't think I've ever met a cyclist who didn't love beer, so I picked up a six of Boulevard Pale* on the off chance that our guest wouldn't have had the chance to sample our little, local, world-class brewery's product.
Our guest turned out to be a kid named Nick, who bought a bike, panniers, some camping gear and flew with it from Boston to L.A.; then, without having trained for it or even doing much riding, set off to ride back to Boston.
I did more training, preparing, and worrying before my first bicycle commute to work; come to that, I think his bike was loaded a little lighter than mine is for commuting, at least winter commuting.
I asked him what the letters on his fork meant, and he said it meant he had letters leftover after he labeled some other stuff. I guess I can relate, those pink polka-dots on my fenders meant I had a garage sale and leftover pricing dots.
*I prefer Bully! Porter to the Pale Ale, personally, but I figured the Pale Ale has a broader appeal. Nick turned out to be enough of a beer geek I could have safely gone with even the most adventurous of the Belgian-influenced Smokestack series beers.
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