Riding my bike around Cairns every day is as good as it gets. On a beautiful sunny day the scenery is stunning.
It gets better when I get rained on. Riding through the puddles, soaked to the bone, smile on my face and a song in my heart, the envy of the occupants of the passing steel coffins that squirt jets of spray all over me in their pointless hurry to get to work.
It gets just about perfect when I ride my recumbent trike ‘Tijgen Tert’ and suddenly get sodden by that short sharp shower that slides in from a sullen sea. Don’t you love all those ‘s’? Had to think hard for a while.
The reactions of people to this diabetic lounging about the highways and byways of Cairns are interesting, if not somewhat mystifying.
Some assume that my legs are as disabled as my pancreas.
Women just love it. They greet me with a happy smile as if I’m one of their long lost gay man-friends. A trike as a chick magnet. Who’d have thought! Their menfolk sneer, as do most lads in lycra.
Best of all are the kids’ reactions. I’m one of them, riding a look-at-me contraption, obviously without a care in the world, making bow waves as I deliberately splash through the puddles. How cool is that!
The meek might inherit the earth, the pure might meet G-d, but trike riders get the best deal. “Unless you become like a kid and ride a trike”, said the Master.
He would have, for sure!