Please, Don’t Call me a Roadie

I am not a downhiller or a cross-country rider—I am a mountain biker. Or at least I used to be.

Since buying my first ever road bike­ a few days ago, my husband is now calling me a roadie.

“Why I oughta,” I say with my meanest face and fist raised.

Never. Before. Did I think I would actually, enjoy riding a bike on roads with cars, but the speed of a road bike was too much for me to resist. The open road and wind in my face. Mountain passes and alpine vistas. Light on my feet and fast.

Meet Blueberry Deux­—a Giant OCR2 carbon fiber road bike. Blue.

We were meant for each other. Obviously named after my dog Blueberry, with the added last name of Deux. (Le Tour is happening now, my bike need French influence in her name.)

Please, don’t call me a roadie. I still love my mountain bike. Er… mountain bikes. Yes, I have 3 ½ mountain bikes, all except Kelly Deux  are for sale. She’s an Intense 5 Point 5. Kelly green, fiesty and better than ever with her new suspension, a new Fox CTD rear shock. (Read more about my Kelly Deux and my Intense affair)

Now, I am not a mountain biker or a road biker­—I am a cyclist; a cyclist with a bike habit and a love for fun on two wheels.

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