Brin had to be retired. We missed the naked event again this year, but she was beyond the point of caring.
It's just as well, as we weren't the best fit.
There is a new Brin, though I don't think she'll be called or known as Brin. Her personality has yet to be revealed and so her name awaits.
I can tell you that the entire year while contemplating a new Brin there was much back and forth (in my mind) about the kind of person powered vehicle to acquire.
Mountain, cruiser, hybrid, or . . . trike. Yes, trike. I will be 53 years old in a few weeks and while in OK physical shape, there are days where those fifty-three years . . . well, let's just say, gliding through the streets with care and ease (never reckless, daredevil like abandon) is quite the trial. That said, truth be known, I never really seriously considered an adult tricycle. Partly because of storage issues but mainly because, frankly, I'm just not there. Yet.
A couple of weeks ago while out on Brin in what will be known now as our last hurrah, we came across a fellow rider on a contraption . . . that can best be described as torture on wheels.
W. T. F. Seriously? Then, I learned that an outfit in town has units available for rent. I repeat, W.T.F.
That expressed, the rider Brin and I saw did seem to be having a wonderful experience. She exhibited a fluidity that was worthy of marvel. However, that mechanical device, not. for. me. any more than a unicycle would be on my list of possibilities.
I chose a mountain bike. Not because I anticipate going off road anytime soon but because the wheels and frame wide and sturdy and I need wide and sturdy. Plus, some city streets are well, rough.
The new (yet to be named, we'll call her Brin for now) is tricked out with the former <Brin's accessories; basket, lights, and the like and is ready to roll. Hopefully over the next five or so days we'll both get quite the workout and her personality will become clear(er).
In the meantime, marking the calendar for next year's naked ride. Let the training begin.