Each ride in this year is another stage.
We measure neither time nor distance.

The great donut stage to Independence, Kentucky
when Po, in the cold, began the donut mantra
up a rise, into a hill & the stinky Frenchman,
Le Shelle, & I regretted mentioning donut,
donut, dough nut, then we were in the
warmth, pooling pennies, stripping off sweaters,
clicking our bicycle shoes on the tile floor.
Yakking with the high school girl pastry clerk then
coasting back down the hills, our bellies
tight with sweet dough & grease.

And the train stage where we paced along
the Licking River in the summer heat,
Po ahead explaining that the road
would turn up the hill from the valley
in a rise so steep that we would turn
around & then the train was coming,
rattling along the tracks blaring air horn
until we sped away, two shiny
cycles crossing as the lights flashed
& the engineer launched an angry blast.

And the Morning Glory stage where I
met Bill Hartnett, the actor I had seen
in "Krapp's Last Tape" at the Ensemble.
He was a cool crusty old fart on a bike that
once belonged to John the pro ultra-marathoner
who wins big ice iditarod races. Bill plans
to ride cross-country on it alone next year &
he's in his sixties & so much cooler than
parents--we pedal with thousands of
lightning-bug red tail-lights leading us
down Columbia Parkway while Alonzo &
I sprint ahead then wait for Po & Bill
at the top of Delta Avenue. They had stopped
to assist a cyclist with a jammed chain. And of
course we get the freshest Krispy Kremes
at UDF because they deliver around 4 AM.

And then we cook pancakes at Po's--
apple pancakes, with maple syrup &
it's a feast, everyone helping,
"We rides to eat & we eats to ride."

And the night stage on
the Loveland Trail from Milford
after midnight past the parked shiny
blue & white Mr. Softee truck, our
return landmark stashed right there
on the old railroad right of way.
We can smell the ice cream, not really,
but what a cool night breeze, our tights
cling to the hair on our legs, our headlights
cast shadows on tree branches & larger
limbs. We arrive at Kroger's in Loveland
& eat more Krispy Kremes (chocolate for me,
cream & raspberry filled for Alonzo). On
last year's Milford to Loveland tour de vivre
stage Po & I ate Rainier cherries in the pole lit
parking lot watching the sweeping Zamboni
vacuuming dust while we chucked & spit pits
across concrete. We slid sheets of newspaper
down our jerseys for the return ride it was
so damn cold.

And the Tour de Latonia stage marked by
sweat & ice cream treats. In Latonia the girls serve
blue cheese ice balls, snow cones flavored with
blueberry cheesecake syrup at the little
stand by the Fire House with over 88 varieties.

And the stage into Newport to the Sweet
Tooth to have snowcones & banana
ice cream combined & chocolate turtles & Po
& I clicking our cycling shoes & talking to
the girls & showing off our legs.

And on the Aglamesis Oakley cul de sac stage
we sample banana chocolate chip ice cream & have the
greatest conversation as we visit every dead end in
Oakley: "I always wanted to be
the most aggressive rider in a stage race," I said
to Po, "You need an aggressive chip, then," he said
I tried to ride ahead up a rise & as a
cloud blocked the sun, I slowed down. "My
aggressive chip is solar powered, Po," I said &
the stage ended at a crawl.

Steven Paul Lansky, copyright 1998 12.3.98
all rights reserved
Clifton