Thursday Thoughts: Locational Musings

A couple of notes to begin with.  I’ve been around.  I’ve had the privilege of riding a bicycle (actually a lot of different bicycles, some very different!) in a lot of different places.  I will readily admit that I haven’t been everywhere…  Not by a long measure.

Here in north Georgia, we have some interesting cycling conditions.  We have hills.  We have the (occasional) flat stretch.  We have traffic.  We have long stretches of nearly deserted roadways.  We have seasons.  In fact we have four distinct seasons.  None of those climatic shifts are particularly severe, but all are worthy of their names.

The suburban county of Fayette, south of Atlanta, has a largely transient population.  Most current residents are not native.  The majority have not been here for longer than two years.  Many have only recently arrived from some other place.  (That’s Yankee for, Ya’ll ain’t frum ‘rouand heyah, ahh ya’ll?)

Between working in bicycle retail, and leading a fair number of rides, I encounter a lot of people, and manage to encounter a lot of the recently arrived.  For some reason, there are those among them who feel impelled to comment on our local conditions.  These comments are notable because they are usually issued as criticisms.  More, once determined where the individual is from, they are downright odd!

Examples:

Statement:  “You don’t have much in the way of hills around here.”  From a recently arrived Ohio native.

Response:  Huh?  Actually we do.  I’ve ridden in your part of Ohio.  The three hills there are significant, but it’s mostly pretty flat by our standards.

Statement:  “The drivers around here are all crazy!  I don’t know how anyone can ride on these roads.”  From a Philadelphia, PA resident.

Respones:  I take it you rode mostly in the gym?  I’ve lived, worked, and ridden extensively in that area.  The drivers who aren’t homicidal, are rude and vicious.  Tailgating has been elevated to a folk art.

Statement:  “You don’t have any shoulders on your roads.  How can anyone ride around here?”

Response:  There is a tiny bit of justification to what you say.  You do have shoulders in most of New York State.  On the other hand, they are in terrible repair.  I didn’t know that potholes could be that deep.  Riding most of those shoulders is tantamount to signing one’s own death warrant.  I’ll stick to here.

Statement:  (Recently arrived from Colorado)  “You don’t have any real mountains around here.”

Response:  Yes we do.  Actually, riding in the Southern Great Smokies compares to the finest mountain riding in the world.

Necessary additional digression:  I have ridden in Colorado.  The Rockies are spectacular.  But great climbs?  Not so much.  Most of the roads out there are much more historically recent.  They were built by removing half the mountain.  They tend to be terrifically long grinds, at a constant, but not too severe grade.  When I get this one, I often offer to take the individual up to North Georgia, and do some real mountain work.  Our mountains are not as tall as the Rockies, but the roads are much older, usually steeper, and a lot more technical.  Oddly, my offer is usually declined, with regret.  Occasionally (rarely) I’ve had one of these new chums accept.  It’s always been an enlightening experience.

Statement:  (From Illinois)  “You southerners don’t know what cold is.  Where I come from we have real Winters.”

Response 1:  Shut up and come see me in August.

Response 2:  Yes you do.  I’ve been there.  You don’t ride in them either.

Response 3 (delivered in mid-January):  We’re riding this afternoon.  Come join us.  The immediate reply is usually,  “What?  It’s too cold out there for riding!”

Statement:  “I’ve been living in France.  There are a lot more cyclists there.  Everybody rides.”

Response:  I’ve been there.  No they don’t.  And the ones that do are stark raving mad.  Sidewalks, wrong way.  Wrong way streets.  Rude.  About two cuts below a Hew York messenger.  Given the way they drive, and the way they ride, the wonder is that they haven’t yet killed half of their own population.

I guess that a recent move almost always produces some longing for the familiar.  At the same time, it seems to provide a convenient excuse for not getting on the bike.