Addicted to bikes?

Joe Kurmaskie
wants to know!

• You know every traffic light sequence in the tri-county area for stop free pedaling.
• Either it's a Brooks saddle or I will stand and pedal the whole way, thank you.
• You own/wear more tights than a children's theater group performing Peter Pan.
• You have eaten pasta directly out of your front bag, while pedaling.
• You have higher quality, up-to-date intel on bike specs, gear and camping equipment than the staff at your local shop, the sales reps in your community and the editors at national magazines.
• You sport a killer set of bodybuilder quads and a pair of angel hair pasta thin arms. That ten year old boy called again. He wants his biceps back.
• You don't hate drivers as much as pity them in their steel cages, surrounded by shock jock rhetoric and their vague anger over how it came to this.
• You think about each hill as a cyclist, even when you are driving in a car.
• You calculate distances between cities by how long it would take by bike. ( 21 bike days from St. Petersburg to St. Louis.)
• You know how many miles you rode last night, last week, last year.
• You don't find it over sharing to tell people you just met how many miles you rode last night, last week, last year.
• You have a Biker's Tan. (bottom 2 /3 of your legs, lower 1/2 your arms, and two little circles on the tops of your hands)
• You get sad when your Biker's Tan fades.
• You have nothing good to say about logging trucks or RVs with living fossils behind the wheel, or anything sporting wide mirrors.
• You have lost feeling in your hands, neck and groin for substantial periods of time, but still you consider it the fair price of doing business on two wheels.
• You have far too many photos of yourself on or around your bicycle next to signs at the top of mountain passes, Welcome To So and So State, National Park entrances, starting lines of bike rides, historic sites, and in front of bicycle shops.