I Tuck and Roll + A Center Line Gallery Addition...

Thanks are again in order to Jason of Bicycle Friends for providing another great addition to the Center Line Gallery:

This photo of Jason's friend Randy, was shot on Glendora Mountain Road (GMR) during its recent closure to motorized traffic. You can check out Jason's blog BicycleFriends by giving it a click.

Now, on to that other bit. I did indeed hit the tarmac today, though not in the way you would expect. Certainly not in the way that I was expecting. The pavement of a tennis court is just as hard and unforgiving as it is on the road. But, Michael, what were you doing on a tennis court? I know you are thinking that, so let me answer in brief: There was this gap in my life, situated right in there between my youthful fascination with the bicycle, and the current 25+ year obsession with the same machine as an adult. During that gap I was a tennis fanatic. You would find me on the court every day, just as you can find me on two wheels every day now. Well, in order to add a little variety to the family's summer this year, I have taken it upon myself to provide a little tennis lesson each week.


So there I was this morning, racket in hand, tennis shoes instead of cleats, and attempting to run down a ball. All of a sudden there is some sort of disconnect, or maybe it was a flaring realization that something was amiss, unusual and just not right. My legs seemed to remember what to do, the motion remembered, but the brain seemed to somehow forget what was going on. "This isn't gracefully turning circles, this isn't even mashing the pedals, this is ... wait, I know what this is. This is running." But by then, of course it was too late. The signal had been crossed; the body was falling forward at a faster rate than the legs were able to accommodate. That momentum was taking me down to the ground.

not the tuck and roll i am referring to

Fortunately, whether by instinct or training bred of countless remembered crashes, the brain commanded the left shoulder to pull in toward the body, and a perfectly executed tuck and roll was performed. I imagine if there had been a nearby crowd of spectators they would have been transfixed by the exhibition of, first klutz, then skill. A great cheer would have risen from the masses. I mean, my Incycle cap stayed perfectly perched atop my head during the whole maneuver. As it was, only the wife and son were witness, and the three of us got a good laugh out of it. I got the bonus of a little road court rash on the elbows. I don't know if this was one of those forty-nine year old moments, or if - gasp - I need to relearn how to run. Thirty years from now, just set me on my saddle, place my hands on the brake hoods, feet on the pedals, and I will take it from there. But right now, whoa, apparently I've got some relearning to do.


I will be one of the first to extol the virtues and benefits of cycling, and how many of those benefits cross over to the rest of life. Add the tuck and roll to the list.