Older, yes. Wiser? Not-so-much.

Updated Mon, Nov 10, 2008 by Coyote

Another birthday has come and gone leaving powerful and lasting memories...

...mostly on my crotch.

Now before any of you start congratulating me, or RadarX spits coffee and runs for the edit button, get your little minds out of the GUTTER and let me explain. (Plus, point out that even though this is NOT a blog, I'm allowed a couple of off topic personal entries a year.)

I got a bike for my birthday.

Getting up to use the bathroom at 4:45 in the morning I walked past the living room and had to stop to do a double-take. There, almost glowing as the centerpiece of the room was a bright red, wide tire, shocks and suspension havin' Schwinn Mountain Bike.

I was instantly eight again.

Bouncing around the living room and going over all of its features and attributes, I was the proverbial kid at Christmas. However, not wanting to spoil Mrs. Coyote's surprise, I forced myself to go back to bed and wait until she was awake, or at the very least, the sun was up.

Crawling back into bed, I laid there absolutely still in my mind, but I must have been radiating excitement because my loving wife rolled over and growled at me.

"Just go ride the F***ING thing!" She roared a "Happy Birthday" as she snuggled down deeper into the blankets and pulled a pillow over her head.

Who am I to argue?

Getting dressed in like a nano second I grabbed my wallet and all but flew down the steps, lightweight bike over my shoulder as I jumped down onto the pavement. This was it. I hadn't ridden a bicycle in years and I knew I'd be wobbly. Slinging a leg over the side like I did when I was a teenager, I turned on the MP3 player and kicked off like a pro.

I made it approximately three feet.

With both tires flat, the bike was less apt to move than one would expect. It seems that when the bike was being assembled the people at the bike store went with the "Looks inflated with no one on it" approach and bid Mrs. Coyote a fond adieu knowing full well that a REAL man wouldn't take it back. He'd fill the tires himself.

Throwing the mountain bike into the minivan (shut up), I quickly drove to the convenient store to buy air for my tires and EXTREME ENERGY DRINKS because that's what 33 year old guys on mountain bikes drank.

Minivan parked, energy drink consumed, and tired inflated to the proper PSI - I kicked off again and this time we had LAUNCH BABY! least the bike was going FORWARD. Launch isn't the proper term, but I don't know a descriptive one word term for "Wobbles unsteady forward before skidding to a halt in the neighbor's flowers that she spent all week planting." so we'll stick with launch.

Bikes are MUCH different now. Hand breaks and twisting gear shifts instead of levers and pulleys we had? Twenty-one speeds with number settings and dials, and a thing that tells you how far you went before crashing?

Whoever said "It's just like riding a bike" never let a whole ten years lapse.

But damn it, I was determined.

I LOVED riding a bike as a kid. It was my ticket to freedom. I remember zipping in and out of traffic, jumping curbs, catching air, and doing things on purpose that I was now doing on accident just trying to get ON the damn thing.

But that's okay, because I got the hang of it, and a few minutes later I'm blazing down the road like the Coyote of my youth. Jumping (Yes, jumping!) the curb, I landed with a crunch on the dirt road to the cemetery and tore past the headstones with a laugh.

It had all come back to me, and this bike was AWESOME. Sure, I don't have the lung capacity that I had as a kid - but that's why I ASKED for a bike for my birthday. I wanted to get my cardio back up and maybe recapture a bit of my youth that had slowly ebbed away over the years.

Jumping (YES! JUMPING! I KNOW!) a small ditch, I flew like the wind as the bike and I cleared the water run off and hit the well grooved walking path that old people power walk up every morning before dying in piles at the top - which in retrospect is probably why that cemetery is RIGHT THERE.

Soaring past Abigail and Trudy as I hit the top of the hill and started my high-speed decent down it, I laugh loudly and gave the finger to old age.

I was YOUNG again.

I was FREE.

I had NO idea which side was the front break and which was the back.

THIS became rapidly obvious as I tore down the hill like a bright red comet and quickly approached the sharp turn in the path that would lead me to rolling hills and pastures and away from the rocky drop off and foreboding swampy woods that loomed ahead.

A wise man would have gently squeeze both breaks in effort to slow himself down. A wise man would have remembered which of the breaks would lock up the back tire and allow him to power slide around the corner and avoid a trip to the emergency room.

And I *AM* a wise man.

Slamming down on the rear break handle, I leaned heavily to one side as I prepared to counterbalance against the sheer force of skidding around that corner.

'Cept I hit the front break instead.

And baby. It works. It works WELL.

The bike stopped. The bike stopped instantly. Years of building a better mousetrap and all that jazz had paid off because this bike was a testament to research and design. INSTANTLY the entire bike came to a screeching halt.

I however did not.

One moment I'm recapturing my youth as a blazing bicyclist, the next I'm Superman...if Superman ever flew upside down screaming while separating himself from his shoes as Motley Crue screamed about Girls, Girls, Girls in his ears.

I'm not sure how long I laid there, but it was enough time for the two old codgers I had passed to catch up and laugh derisively as they power walked by, one of them kicking my bike as she sneered in contempt at the blood trail that more than likely lead to my corpse.

Checking myself over I was mildly shocked to find out that nothing was broken, and after I had located my shoe and removed the family of slugs that had built a condo in it - I was pretty much good to go.

Except now I didn't want to.

The bike was no longer a symbol of my youth staring back at me as it glinted crimson in the sun.

No. Now it was a demon bike who could only exist by feeding itself on the blood and soul of its rider.

But then I remembered an old saying...

"If you fall off a bike, you get right back on as soon as you remove your shoe screaming because you missed a slug and it's now trying to mate with your big toe."

And that saying still holds true today.

Getting back on my bike, I proceeded to pass the Granny sisters yet again and make my way through some of the mountain bike trails in the woods.

I got the hang of it again, and with a bit more caution I can say that I'm actually COMFORTABLE on it once more. I rode until my lungs felt like they were going to pop, and the bike seat wedge firmly in my groin has given me saddle sore - but it's all worth it.

I'm working on my cardio, I'm recapturing something I loved as a child, and most importantly..

Women in spandex rock.


1. Its tyre not tire ffs. You tire after riding.

2. Not *all* women in spandex rock. Oprah? Nuh uh.

3. Erm let me get this right, in the USA, REAL men drive a van to a store to BUT air for a bike tyre? Seriously? You don't have hand pumps? Erm not that sort, the sort that blow up tyres.


Buy air? omg hahahahahahahaha.



Oh anyone else thinking *those shoes are NOT suitable for cycling*??

Buy air???


*plots to sell canned air to the US*

Perri-air - the choice for the new generation!

FFS, BUT? Thats meant to say BUY. I couldnt see due to the tears of laughter rolling down my face.

hehe...happy birthday, Coy.

Oh you know riding a bike is bad for your libido? Or in american, it can do bad things to your ability to get it on with Mrs Coyote.

Riding = impotence!

You said *she* bought you the bike for your birthday?

Happy Birthday.

Happy Birthday Coy!!!!!!

Wow, a rare butt shot in the Coyblog. But nice.

And I wish I was there to see you flip over the bars. I woulda had to call an ambulance. Not for you, but because I couldn't breathe.


I HAD a bike pump, but was forcefully encouraged to leave out what HAPPENED to the bike pump by Mrs. Coyote who likes to run over objects with the van for no reason.

Yes. We have to buy air. Welcome to America. Where 10 years ago "Air hoses" used to be free at all Gas Stations, they are now quarter operated machines because EVERYONE is trying to make a buck. 75 cents will get you three minutes of air if your wife has destroyed your bike pump.

Riding a bike leads to impotence? bellies and out of breath because you thought of walking leads to not getting laid so it's a catch 22. *flex*

'sides. They make pills for that now.

And it is tire. Not tyre. Keep your 16th century spellings and medical practices on THAT side of the ocean.

Biking actually really is good for you. I went mountain biking through a state park with friends about 3 years ago, it almost killed me. Things that almost kill me like "cardio" and "vegetables" are good for you.

Think about whats actually making contact with the seat, or the handlebars if you get thrown, or the crossbar if you slip, they dont make pills for that!!

One thing I noticed when I visited California a couple of years back was, *nobody* walks anywhere. Everyone has a car. Me and my mate would be out for a walk and people in huge dodge pickup things, on their own mind, would slow down and yell *get a job ya bums!* and other such pleasantries, like, walking meant we couldnt afford a car.

We frequented a rib/bar place literally 5 mins from the hotel, a lot. One night, after sampling as many of the drinks for sale as I had a conversation with the barman thus:

Barman: be careful when you leave, the cops hang about outside some nights

Me: erm We saw the Rodney King thing on TV but surely out here in Thousand Oaks the cops wouldnt attack 2 innocent Brits?

Barman: No no, they are heavy on drink driving here

Me: We are at the Hyatt, over the road. 5 min walk max.

Barman: Uh hu, watch out for the cops, seriously...

Me: We walked here...

Barman: No really, just be careful!

Me: ....

Seriously we could only JUST walk, the 5 min walk took us 20, and he thought we'd gone there in our car!

Happy birthday, Coyote. Bet the years have sailed by...much the same way the trees did as you hit the brakes.

I used to walk 20 mins to the pub when sober Mad and if the yanks think 5 is bad then jesus.

Granted the trip back took alot longer but lying down in the middle of the road will do that...

Most perfect ass shot EVER Coyote. Brought a tear to my eye (and lets not mention the pants).

Tear in your pants might work too!

Crying in his pants?

Madhog... Shoes...? Cycling...? You mean she has a bike or even feet?!?!

She sure as hell doesn't have any boobs.

Yeah..I didn't make it to the feet either.

What is it with you frigging people and FEET?

Happy Birthday Coyote!

Any idea what model bike it is? I've been looking at getting a bike to ride around for the same purposes (cardio, etc) but they always tell me I'm too big for any of the mass produced frames. I have to get a custom one. = (

BTW Mad, California is probably one of the worst examples of American behavior you can possibly get. Come to Colorado if you want to see some fit outdoorsy types.

How many references.. shall we count the ways..

Pee Wee's Big Adventure (ok, so we all know that the photo is really Coyote with his new bike just pretending to look like Pee Wee.. good job mate (thats for you Brits), Space Camp, Grumpy Old Men (ok, so its just one man and you were on a bike, but flicking off old people.. yeah that fits.) and Stand By Me (with the part played by Stephen King being revised by Coyote)...

(checks his list.. double checks it) Yep.. all those are from the 80's or early 90's.. showing your age on your birthday.. nice...

Oh, and next idea for a MasterCard commercial...

Bike.. $250
Air in Tires.. $.75
Coyote flying through the air like the Greatest American Hero.. Priceless.

BTW.. that girl in the photo.. she drinks Red Bull. You can tell.

Ack, missed a movie reference.. (silly me, and one of my favorites..) Labrynth..Go Jennifer Oggle-Me.. er.. Jennifer Connely.

Happy Birthday Coy, and thanks for the best laugh of the week so far!

Yeah, hand brakes and freewheeling hubs, gah, these weird technological improvements, eh?

I remember a lad moved into our street and he had an American bike. Nobody but nobody could ride it first time as you had to keep the pedals moving (fixed hub) and if you back pedalled the brake slammed on. Evil... Still, it stopped people stealing it. That and it having a 'girly' frame and the same colour scheme as a bad hotdog probably helped.

Best wishes mate.
And kudos to Mrs Coy for an awesome birthday pressy.

(Now, if you need some air, I've got some I made myself, you can have it cheap...)

I was riding my bike down a big hill one time, and I did a wheelie, and then watched as my front tire rolled away. After the few seconds of dawning comprehension about how screwed I was, the front forks came down and dug in, and the next 10 seconds were like the very beginning of The Six Million Dollar Man. It was BRUTAL.

Stephen King wasn't in Stand By Me...

Oh, contrair (or however that snobby word is spelled) he was too, and if you would like to put up a nice chesty photo of yours in the ante, I would willingly put up a chesty photo of myself up in the pot too. (ok, mine is a lot hairy then yours, but.. hey.. ante for ante.. .)

He has a small spot in all movies made from his books, usually only a few seconds but he is there. I always play "spot King" during the movie, like where's waldo.

What scares me is the seat in the hot buns biking picture is red on the end O.O

I know he does but there are some he hasn't been in and I was fairly certain Stand By Me was one of em.

I'll take yer word for it, cause no one here gets busty pics of me :p

Cept Wenchie. Rawr.

No one gets busty pictures of me either . . . unless you ask really nicely and include dinner and a movie.

Does a hot dog at the drive-in count as "diner and a movie"? If so, sign me up, for both you you!


That's right kiara's busty pics are for me and hurk. RAWR baby!!!
*flashes everyone a quick glimpse of kiara's pics.* Oh I'm sorry you missed it oh well!!!

Dont wench you might start Lok off again.

Happy Birthday Coyote!

*mails off a couple of pics of her own*

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