Bikers

So we had a party this weekend - about 50 people showed up. A friend of mine, who is not a rider, also showed up. Her comment after the party? "Wow, there was a lot of bike talk going on around there." Bikers and skiers. Skiers and bikers.

A friend of ours was there, a guy who had fractured his ankle on a mountain bike ride at the beginning of the season. Bummer. He was there since he ran out of sympathy at home and was looking for some new people who might be available to shower him with 'poor-babies'. He claims that the fracture hurt less than his famous cuticle injury of '02. Although the cuticle injury was severe (it didn't bleed, but close), we thought that surely the fracture had hurt more. But he claims that the circuit breakers on his pain panel had apparently been tripped and he did not have to suffer. Being an electrician, he is unable to come up with any analogies other than those electrically related. Thus, the cuticle injury of '02 did not cause a trip, so he was forced to suffer. This time, he got off easy and is just relegated to spending time in his basement, spinning.

Bikers. That is what we are. Through and through. Not particularly good bikers, some of us, but we love it. And sometimes, it loves us. Bikehubby and I were driving somewhere and I saw a sign that said "Bikers Welcome". I pointed the sign out to BikeHubby and told him that I thought it was interesting that a bar had a sign for bikers. He looked at me like I had just fallen off of the blonde bus and said....Uh, I think they mean motorcyclists. Well, they shouldn't say 'bikers' if they don't mean 'bikers'.

Cuz I'm a biker.