Biker Short

Summer is hydrangeas. White, lime green, pink, blue - Massachusetts hosts them all. Last year the fellow who helps us out in the yard butchered the hydrangea bushes that flank our cottage door. Cut them down to a nub. You might have heard me the day I noticed. 

Now it’s mid-summer. No blatant announcements from the sun. It’s still hot here in the Northeast, but I am picking up seasonal subtext. July’s double-dip cone has dripped down onto our arms. And, if summer is the year's tall glass of refreshment, it’s mid-August - that hairline crack in time where the light starts leaking out. 

Still I’m having fun. The other day Jim and I went bike riding. This was a big deal for me. I had broken my ankle a few years ago after falling off my bike, and I’ve been late getting back in the saddle. Because a steep gravelly incline had caused my fatal fall, we headed for the flat, smooth, wide asphalt of the nearby Cape Cod Canal. Anyone who rides the canal knows the fierce headwinds. We decided to fight back and rented e-bikes. 

Before we left the bike rental we studied the small screen, and lingered in the driveway to practice the different plus/minus functions. We were just about to push off, when the bike guy pointed out the throttle feature. It’s actually not legal to use it on the Canal, he slipped in, but, if it’s not congested…”  I heard his voice trail as off we rode. 

As we set off from Buzzard’s Bay heading to Scusset Beach, I rode unassisted for a few miles. The hard push down onto my pedals loosened the tight muscles of my calves and thighs. Ah yes, Bike riding. I remember this!  And, because the wind was at my back, it was easy. The Atlantic breeze began to work its cooling magic. Pedal, glide, pedal. As I coasted, sails-down tall ships motored by forging through shifting currents. Shore waves slapped against rocks etching seaweed floats with rims of salty white. 

When I looked up and saw that Jim had peeled off up ahead, I pushed the plus sign for pedal assist and enjoyed that, whoops, little jump forward. With each additional jab, I caught myself smiling, laughing and then feeling a bit smug as I surged past other bikers. I now know why e-bike usage has surged by the millions in the last few years. 

I’d been wary of using the throttle in the beginning of the trip, but as I headed back, I pressed down onto that waiting lever and slashed my way into the ferocious headwind. I’m sure I traveled at 20 miles per hour. And my feet never hit the pedals. 

Oh. And the hydrangeas? They grew back - full and fabulous - around the backdoor of summer.

Summer!