Yesterday I rode the old Galmozzi the five miles to the Whalan (pop 63) pie shop, rated by Yahoo Foods as the "Best Pie in America". I am doubtful about that - I have eaten a lot of pieces of my Danish grandmother's pie, but it is good pie in an old-fashioned lard crust and fresh fruit sort of way. Regardless, my grandmother is long gone, and it is well worth the 10 mile bike ride on a nice sunny afternoon. I rolled in five minutes before closing, picked out two pieces that looked like they would travel well, and had them boxed up. I boarded the Old Gal for the one-handed ride back to the 'Boro. This was silly, I have a very cool Galmozzi musette, tailor made for pie toting - next time. On the way back I noticed a subtle click/click every revolution - a bad wheel bearing I would guess. It would probably go on forever if it didn't drive me crazy first.
Later I was sitting at the trail head in Lanesboro getting a drink of water, trying to regain my click-clack senses, and figure out how best to get up that damned steep Church Hill to get back to Lorna while carrying pie. The Rooster started drawing a crowd. Well, actually it drew four people - it drew a small crowd. The normal questions were posed. How do you shift it? Are the wheels fragile? Is that seat comfortable? My favorite was, The Lady, "What year is it?" Me, "About 1950." The Lady, "Are you the original owner?" Me, "Huh?"
I need a new selfie photo. I haven't cut my hair in a year or two, I'm getting a little gaunt and saggy, but I'd have to be 90 years old to be the original owner of that bicycle. I hope I don't look quite that old.