He’s short. I’m tall–no wait. That’s the other way round. He’s tall. I’m short. He’s skinny. Um… I’m most definitely not (but I was when I married him. Does that count?). While I love oldie moldie music (seriously, pre-50s is best, pre-70s is a must–for reference, I was born in 1970)… He loves heavy metal. Seriously. The guy has no taste.
And then there’s that little issue of bicycles…
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Just What Is Your Idea of Fun? Battle of the Bikes!
Everyone knows that I spent a lot of my childhood in the desert. I wandered through washes, made playhouses among the creosote, and avoid jumping cactus like the plague. Although… that might have made a good 80s dance move. Just sayin’. Kevin spent his childhood riding up and down an All-American neighborhood. While I played among the desert shrubs, he cycled past cornfields (and probably got motion sick, but that’s a story for another day).
Well… mostly. After all, that’s another “opposite” we have. I love rollercoasters, flying, boats… all the motion stuffness. Him… not so much. Okay, fine. Not at all. That motion-sick thing. Psst… he got motion sick trying to detassel corn. Made it half an hour max before they had to send him home.
But what people tend to forget is that I also grew up near the beach in Ventura. Hours of playing in surf and sand. And what many people don’t know is that I also used to ride my bicycle pretty much everywhere. Just like Kevin. He’s a cyclist. So was I.
Except in his mind… no way. Not even close.
Picture it. Ventura, California. Palm trees swaying, salt air, the Santa Ana winds blowing… and me on my bicycle. Look, it was a ten-speed, but in my mind, it was a fat-tired, coaster-braked beach cruiser. I love those bicycles. Comfy seats (unlike the ten-speed), extra stability from those wider tires, and then there’s the coolness factor. Even on my pink and red ten-speed, I coasted through our neighborhood and down to the marina as if I were on the coolest of cruisers. Slow curves around corners…
Okay, I’ll confess. Sometimes I even forgot that I didn’t have coaster brakes and nearly ran into things when spinning the pedals backward did NOT slow me down. Sigh. It was a beautiful life, though. Except the time my chain came off and I had to walk a couple miles home, pushing that bicycle because it’s not as easy for a kid to put a chain on derailers and all that nonsense as it is to hook ’em over a single gear thingie. (I’m so technical!)
Doesn’t it sound beautiful???
Here’s my husband’s idea of riding fun. No joke.
First, he pulls on sausage casings otherwise known as “bicycle shorts.” A t-shirt. A helmet. Then comes the shoes (okay, after the socks. Sheesh!). Those shoes? Yeah. You can’t walk in them. They’re rigid with clips on the bottom that hook onto the pedal.
I don’t know about you, but that terrifies me! HOOK ONTO THE PEDALS… so if you start to fall? Yeah. Shoes are stuck. Yes, I know that if you twist just so, they come right off, but not as easily as Keds or saddle shoes (my personal faves).
Then (remember we live in the desert), he gets on a racing bicycle (super skinny tires, folks), and takes off as fast as he can go.
In the desert sun (and often heat or bitter cold).
Uphill half the time (although he’d say it’s all directions–his version of walking to school in the snow).
Did you see that “as fast as he can go” bit?
FOR TWENTY-SIX MILES.
Oh, well. Aside from music and movement (of bodies and bicycles–the guy can’t dance either. His idea is sticking two feet firmly in place and moving his knees if he must), we’re almost two peas in a pod. (I’m the round one. He’s the pod-shaped one).
Some think it’s weird, but hey. If we were exactly the same in every area, one of us would be redundant. And besides. Someone has to ride that road and terrify the cars. Right?
So what’s all this about? Why am I telling you my husband’s cycling secrets?
A Heart for News by Susan K. Beatty released last week and…
She asked the authors of the Suamalie Islands group if we and our significant others had opposing ideas of “dangerous pursuits.” And we do. Kevin likes to ride like a maniac on a BUSY highway. For fun. I like to ride rollercoasters and would love to zipline, parasail, and all kinds of fun stuff like that. He’d die first (and probably in the attempt as well).
A Heart for News: Year One (Suamalie Islands Book 4)
Will a heart for news get a scoop on love?
Though Margo Durand invests her whole heart into working for her family’s newspaper, her father refuses to modernize, and she harbors a secret fear of approaching interviewees and all things dangerous—except riding her Vespa everywhere. But when Margo follows evidence that two government officials are corrupt, Margo discovers danger, intrigue, and a legal sort of blackmail.
Professional race car driver, Steve Grayson, arrives to finish recuperating and overcome his fear of getting back on the track while pursuing his desire to open a race car driving school on Le Cadeau Île. If he can find the money and convince the owner to sell.
When Margo’s best friend sets Margo up with Steve as a tour guide, conveniently forgetting to tell him Margo is a reporter, they tour the islands until Steve is willingly dragged into the investigation. The investigation only opens new questions, creates new trials, and has the potential to destroy their budding romance.
Does pursuing a relationship just before he leaves to take part in one last racing season even make sense?
Take a trip to the Suamalie Islands where palm trees sway, the sand and sea pulse with life, and the people will steal your heart.
Don’t forget to check out the other authors’ posts and see about their opinions on dangerous pursuits (and enter their giveaways!)
Susan Beatty: May 30
Mellissa Wardwell: May 31
Marguerite Gray: June 1
Rachel Skatvold: June 2
Amanda Tru: June 3
Chautona Havig: June 4 (I was late. I thought it was the 6th!)