Wrong Model

A few weeks ago, the English-made leather seat on my Schwinn got loose and refused to be tightened, at least by me, so I took it to my friendly Schwinn dealer on North Avenue. I always like it when people ooh and aah at my stuff. Going to the dealer is like watching a repeat of The X-Files. Not a spooky place but one run by three guys a la The Lone Gunmen; if you watched the series, you get the reference. Otherwise, think two brothers and a cousin or some other Beach Boys’ kind of connection that’s been going on for a very long time. When I mentioned to the big brother/cousin/Mike Love that I was toying with the idea of taking the plunge on a Schwinn Paramount, I said I wanted to upgrade from a Buick, and he corrected me. The difference between a Paramount and my Sports Tourer is the difference between a Corvette and a Cadillac, performance and comfort. Off of yesterday, I think he was right. I did 42 miles or so on the lakefront trail, this despite my Goldilocks’ rules when it comes to cycling. You couldn’t ask for clearer skies, but the temperature was closer to 60 than 70, and there was a steady wind out of the northeast. But wait too long in Chicago, and the weather can hit 100 or -10 in the blink of an eye. So, off I went. For a 52-year old bike, the Sports Tourer was pure joy to peddle. I’m pretty much a one-gear guy, and the ST has one that allowed me to make like the Energizer Bunny. Oh, going north required some effort, but whenever someone in spandex passed me, I had plenty of incentive to keep going. And the way back, let’s just say I was able to go from near the north end of Chicago down to Hyde Park on the South Side in record time. Could I have done better riding a Corvette? If only somebody would lend me one to try.