Surely the most epic ride of my life thus far. From dry foothills to mountain passes to, eventually, the place I grew up and back again.
A young Fred meets a strange group of riders on South Park Drive. What happens next will shock you.
Of all the stories I tell, this is one of the stupidest. It's also almost impossible to tell without collapsing into waves of hysterical laughter.
Late one Friday evening, I was kicking the tires of various bices in the apartment locker when an all-too-usual suspect rolled in.
Bike thieves are people too.
Last summer, summer 1986. The summer a dog killed my little brother and I killed the dog. It seemed like the right thing to do at the time. And I still think it was, even if it landed me in the stupid church youth program where I’m writing this now.