Love letter to Gomez

If you bike in the Chicago burbs, you may have seen me. I'm the one hustling along with the crack-monkey grin. You see, I love my bike.
It's been like dating, I've had to straddle a few before I found exactly the right fit. There was some squandered money, until I decided that the longer rides I was taking justified a nicer bike that fits me and my needs. I cannot understand the love of mountain bikes, especially in this flat, manicured trail having portion of Illinois. They're like the bike version of an SUV. They require a ton more energy to push along, they aren't all that comfortable, and it's not like 90% of the people who have one are going to be doing any of the extreme types of riding the bike is built for.
So Gomez, my bike, he is tall and has mid weight tires, not only for streets, but not hugely knobbled for the gravelled hills I won't be seeing. He's a guys bike (mostly because that was less expensive for all the same features and I don't see the point of bike sexism).
As to the biking itself, well, the small part of my mind that likes to make contingency plans for the collapse of society is much pleased by the fact that I can finish up a twenty mile ride in just over an hour. The cheap bit of my brain is WAY pleased with being able to drive once a week or less. It just makes me feel free and effective and happy, and gives me a measure of respect for how cool my body can be.
Also...I love how the witch's theme music from Wizard of Oz always goes through my head every time I ride, and it just keeps getting funnier!!