My husband Dick on his first road bike, a Niko Grand Tour 12, that he bought mail order while stationed in Puerto Rico. I know I’m biased, but he was a real babe, even in Birkenstocks.
What was your first adult bike? Do you still have it?
Visiting family in Florida didn’t mean we’d have to miss our bike date. We just took them along for the ride. The plan: dining alfresco Florida style, which translates to dining on a screened-in porch at a restaurant down the beach. This is a far cry from the Florida of my youth, where the better restaurants boldly announced “Air Conditioned Dining Room” on signs visible from the highway.
As we rolled out of my sister’s neighborhood, a pedicab driver tried to sell us on a ride. Given that pretty much everyone in their seaside resort town rides bikes, it was a tough sell.
Besides, my sister Patty would rather pedal than sit. Doesn’t she look great in her Donald Pliner gold lame mules? It was her first time riding in heels, but it was no problem.
The parking lot at Borago wasn’t set up for a party of seven on bikes, but we made do, chaining our bikes together with cable locks. Not that the typical oversized Grayton Beach pickup truck couldn’t have held all of them.
Everyone enjoyed their dinner. My chicken piccata and Dick’s eggplant were particularly tasty. The Pinot Grigio wasn’t bad either, but it was hardly at the optimal 45-50 degree serving temperature.
Air conditioned dining room or screened-in porch? In a car or on a bike?
Where would you rather be on a warm and humid summer night?
An amateur enthusiast pedaling through the District.
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