CYCLES CHAPTER 6
Big Red grinned at us like we were old friends, “Well, if it ain’t Bo and Luke Duke and their trusty General Lee!” Granted, he got Pamela Lee confused with the car from the Dukes of Hazard, but it was still kind of funny, and not important enough to correct. He clapped his hands together. “Fantastic.” He continued to smile and nod his head, hands still clapped together, taking us in.
We smiled back, indecisive on which of the many striking aspects of this chance meeting upon which to comment. Big Red’s spandex bike shorts and shirt were a bright, sun catching, candy-apple red. His hi-tech bike helmet possessed a bright red sheen reminiscent of the hood on a Lamborghini (He was really playing up the red thing). His outfit made him look so thin and wiry that he resemembled a giant stick man.
His head nodding morphed into dumbfounded head shaking. He asked, “What the hell you still doing here? It’s been what? A week? You guys get lost?” He had no idea how close to the truth this was.
I looked at Matt as if giving him the go ahead to reveal that we were, indeed, lost, although only at that very moment, not for the past week.
Matt said, “We ran into a little glitch. The Hubie was defective.”
“We only made it six miles before it broke.” I chimed in.
“No shit.” Red said glancing toward the hub.
“Yeah, so we got to have a low budget five day vacation in Seattle while we waited for the part and the wheel rebuild.” Matt said, chuckling.
“Where’d you guys go for it?” Big Red asked, eager to talk shop.
This was shop talk that I could keep up with so I jumped at my chance. “Well, first we went to Sam’s Cycles because, luckily, we were only a quarter mile or so away when it happened-“
Big Red cut me off. “Was Tim there? Black glasses? Bike mechanic?”
“Yeah! You know that guy?” Matt said, excited. “They couldn’t do the wheel there but he gave us a ride and pointed us to SSC.”
“No shit.” Big Red shook his head in dismay. “Yeah, Tim’s a good guy. We did a ride for cancer together last summer.”
Well, Tim doesn’t remember Big Red, I thought to myself. That’s the measure of one kind of popularity and charisma, people that you’ve long forgotten remember you as their friend.
“Yeah, he was a cool dude. …So you tracking us down or what?” Matt asked.
“Nah. Just out for a little ride today, gonna head out toward Rainer and back.” He said, offhandedly.
I didn’t know exactly how far Mount Rainer was, but there and back was not a ride that I would call little.
Big Red looked back and forth at Matt and me, unsure who to directly address, “Do you guys head that way too? I mean that’s toward, Maine, but not sure what your route is.”
“Well, actually, we’re really glad you just showed up.” Matt said. “We just got to this spot about two minutes before you, and our maps seem to be telling us to get on the highway…” Matt laughed as if to indicate that that is simply crazy talk. “Is there some kind of bike path up there at the end of the road or something? Or another way to ride to the wharf?”
“Nope.” Big Red grinned a thin, ear to ear grin. “The only way is the highway.”
“Seriously.” I said, wanting him to be shitting us.
“Nah, it’s a really unique spot in the city here, cuz of the inlet water and the bridge and such. So bikes are allowed to use it to get across.” He looked away from us, turning toward the interchange. “It’s pretty hairy, really.” He pointed at spots as though we could see exactly where he was indicating. “You gotta get on right here, and as soon as the on ramp ends, cross three lanes of the highway cuz your off ramp is just beyond that on the opposite side.”Matt looked at me and gave an O-face. My eyes doubled to twice their size. A semi-truck rumbled loud and large across the overpass, momentarily drowning out the zooms and vrooms of cars, trucks, motorcycles, and SUVs speeding to and fro.
“Yeah, it’ll put hair on your chest, cuz the cars are trying to change lanes to get to their ramps as well.”
I stared at the highway like it was a fleet of fire-breathing dragons. I said, “…I can’t believe that’s an option. Like, the only option. Has anyone died?”
“Not yet.” Big Red said, adjusting his helmet. “They have signs up warning drivers though.”
“Hear that, Marflake? They have signs.” Matt said, just as scared as I was. “I’m sure we’ll be just fine.”
Big Red shifted his high performance bicycle underneath him and said, “Well, I’m heading that way myself. It’s really not all that bad, especially for a couple loons likes yourself.” Big Red grinned, “Just stick close, and follow my lead. Safety in numbers, eh?”
Matt looked at me as he hooked his chin strap and asked, “You ready, Marflake?”
I hooked my strap and said, “No. But let’s do it.”
Big Red readied his right foot on his pedal and grabbed his fancy triple grip handlebars. “So, when we get to the top, I’ll try to time it so we can easily accelerate into our window without having to slow before we start cutting across. Cool?”
“Cool.” Matt responded.
Big Red nodded and head off, Matt and I clipped in and followed.
Big red kept a slow enough pace for us to catch up to him at the base of the ramp. Without stopping we turned and followed him up, staying close behind. The sound of the highway grew as we crested the incline of the ramp. I’d been accustomed to getting that sweet relief of letting up a bit after any climb, but in this instance we didn’t let up on intensity once the ramp leveled off with the overpass. My legs burned as we worked to keep a steady speed behind Red.
I looked over Matt’s shoulder, I could see Red looking back at the oncoming traffic, gauging when to punch it and get us working our way across the lanes. I was hoping for a nice momentary gap across all three lanes, no such luck. I couldn’t yet see our off ramp up ahead on the other side of the highway. Matt glanced back toward me, his pupils flashed, eyes performing a split second scan of the highway behind us, like search beams.
A grouping of a car and three trucks sped past us, the Doppler effect stretching and sliding the sound like a screaming, electric slide guitar- And then there was a window, a gap for us to slip into the first lane. Everything was moving so fast, the concrete And asphalt were hotter up here, the heat of the radiating road and gas chortling engines rose and swirled like steam from an oily grill.
I saw Red stand up off his seat and gun it into the first lane, Matt and I followed his lead, I glanced back looking for a gap in the middle lane, we had to move before the next vehicles came up on us. I was at the mercy of Matt’s riding, we had to act as one, and he was gauging whether to follow Red’s next move. I looked forward as Matt looked back at the next lane, face completely focused, like a sniper taking aim.
A tanker truck barreled toward us, nothing was behind it for a few hundred feet. A window was opening. Matt shot his eyes forward, the eighteen wheel tanker truck rumbled past us, the highway shook like the earth was crumbling, the air displacement from the truck’s passing created a vacuum that pulled us closer toward it’s hind wheels. I heard the whir of the rubber on the road. The truck cleared us and we shot into the lane. A split second later, the truck passed Big Red and he cut into the open space just ahead of us. Two lanes down one to go.
We kept pedaling, we had to go faster, we saw Red accelerating, I saw the exit up ahead. We had to time it just right so that we didn’t get stuck and go sailing past the down ramp as vehicles careened around us. The exit was getting closer, Big Red Stuck out his left arm to signal our left lane change. The lane was tightly packed, the traffic was thick, a car jumped out of it came up behind us like it was going to run us down but then cut to the lane on our right. A pick-up truck cut in front of Red from his right, then into the far lane to exit the ramp.
Now we were three hundred feet away. Matt looked back for a window, I glanced back as well. The vehicles changing lanes had created a gap, just after the next two cars. If we were lucky, it wouldn’t close. The two cars sped by us. A little girl in the passenger seat of the first car stared at us with her mouth agape, the driver of the second car, an old hatchback, laid on the horn.
“GO!” I yelled to Matt with authority.
Matt was on the same page. We jumped into the far lane, in unison with Red. We were there, we only had to exit. A car honked its horn behind us as the gap closed. Red was close to passing the off ramp but was able to cut across the berm of the ramp. The road descended. Big Red stayed on the berm, we joined him on it and followed him down. The driver of the car behind us exited as well and honked his horn as as passed us. I felt like yelling back, “There’s signs! Read the signs fuckhead! Watch for bicycles!”
The world quieted. I could hear our wheels roll, they crackled on the loose pebbles and bubbling tar of the pavement as the sound of engines, wind, and rattling metal faded. Matt glanced back at me with a smirk-like smile and a raised eyebrow. I nodded in acknowledgment.
Big Red stopped at the bottom of the Ramp. We stopped alongside him. I smiled, flying on the wings of the adrenaline flowing through my beating heart.
Red smiled at us, bigger than ever. “Damn! Right?”
“...Hairy. Couple of those cars didn’t see the sign, apparently, about bicycles.” I said, still smiling.
“Awe, wasn’t that bad.” Matt said, trying to keep a straight face.
Red Glanced up at the overpass and back at us, “That… Was knarlier than usual. I’ve never crossed in so much traffic. Damn!”
“Man, if you hadn’t come along and we went up that ramp, we would’ve been like no fucking way do people do this.” Matt said while laughing.
“Yeah, I was kind of shitting you a bit with the danger of it… I thought.” Red said.
“Thanks for being our guide, man.” I said. I was buzzing with vitality.
“No doubt.” Matt added. “Saved the day.”
“No worries. Glad to see you dudes again.” Red said, nodding.
The conversational lull arrived. I tried to mop some sweat from my face with the front of my shirt, the material was anything but absorbent.
Red spun his left crank upward and readied his foot on the pedal, “Well, I’ll tell you what. I veer off hear about a quarter mile or so onto Lincoln. You never said what your route was…”
“We’re headed to the ferry to Vancouver Island.” Matt said, knowing that that meant we were parting ways with Red.
“Ah, so you’ll be sticking on this road for a ways. It’s at the wharf downtown, right?”
“Yeah.” We both replied.
“Well…” Red offered out his hand to Matt who was closer to him. “Once again, good luck and I’m jealous.”
Matt shook his hand. “Yeah, thanks again.”
Red offered his hand to me and we shook, “Yeah, thanks.” I said.
Red nodded. He paused as though about to say one more thing. “Listen…” He looked up at the sky for a second, then back at us like people do when they’re about to impart delicate information. “Saddle sores. You guys are gonna get ‘em.”
I stared at Red. I didn’t really know what a saddle sore was but I could easily infer.
“You ever deal with ‘em before.” He looked at both of us for an answer.
“Nah, not really, no.” Matt said awkwardly.
“Well, if you feel them coming on, get yourself some Vaseline, a nice big goop…” He mimed the goop and the next motion with his hand. “…And you just stick it down there before your ride that day.” He motioned toward hi perineum. “Trust me, it sounds gross but you’ll save yourself a lot of grief.” He looked at us both, to see if we were catching what he was throwing.
“Alright.” Matt said. “Thanks for the advice. Hopefully it won’t come to that. But- thanks.”
I simply looked from Matt to Big Red and back again. Saddle sore? Was I going to get blisters on my ass? No, I’m sure I wouldn’t. I had padded shorts. I’d be fine. I’d been on long rides in my life. Man, it sounded gross, like an infection.
Big Red re-Velcroed his gloves and said, “Kick America’s ass. Alright?”
“Will do.” Matt said. I nodded along.
“Happy Trails.” Big Red said as pushed down his crank and started off down the road.
“See ya’.” I called out. (Who knows, we ran into him once already.)
We watched the sight of him get smaller as the distance between us grew.
“…Saddle sores? You didn’t say anything about sores on my ass.” I said to Matt.
“I don’t think about your ass, Marflake.” Rose quipped. “I don’t know. Some people get ‘em, he’s not making it up. I just don’t think we should stand next to each other in the drugstore, in our spandex, if we buy ourselves some Vaseline.”
Matt looked from the shrinking sight of Big Red to me.
“Agreed.” I said.
For the remainder of the ride that day, anytime I felt discomfort- down there, I thought of Big Red and his travel tip.
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I’m getting better at letting my writing roll out of bed and onto the page before even hitting the bathroom to freshen up. Just gotta get some words down, get a base, keep the good ideas, sentences, and paragraphs, throw out the bad and pretty up the worthy, then do the same all over again. NInja Driver? Thoughts?