Story originally published on Jan 31, 2011
I am a Trikker.
Two years ago this time, I had no idea there was such a thing called a Trikke. Then I saw the last fifteen minutes of an infomercial. Shiny, happy people were riding some kind of newfangled bike, having the time of their lives, beaming like individual rays of golden sunlight.
Two years ago this time, that fifteen minutes forever changed my life. From that moment forward, I knew I was destined to be one of those shiny, happy people, riding this newfangled bike, having the time of my life, beaming brighter than I ever dreamed possible. Until now.
Two years ago this time, I was a loner on Planet Trikke, just a squirrel in search of a Trikke nut, so to speak. I did some research online, pondered the possibilities, then took the plunge. A short time later, a large rectangular package appeared on my back porch. My new toy in a big brown box.
“I’ve called myself a lot of thing and others have called me many more.”
Two years ago this time, my new toy in a big brown box remained unopened for nearly one whole month. A bout of bronchitis knocked me out for a serious 8-count. While I lay weak and weary, my new dream sat dormant in the darkness of my bedroom like an unexplored treasure chest.
Two years ago this time, my good friend Jeri took care of me and my dog Boomer while I recovered. “That’s the new thing I want to show you,” I told her from my sickbed, indicating the big brown box that promised unknown adventure.
Two years ago this time, the forty-seven-year-old boy that is me finally became well enough to go outside and play. He opened the big brown box and began to explore its contents. He discovered a whole new world, the center of which was a newfangled bike called a Trikke.
Two years later, the forty-nine-year-old boy that is me has become a whole new man. Some men think of themselves as runners, bikers, swimmers, gymnasts, ballers, golfers, surfers. It’s part of their identity. It’s in their DNA. He’s gotta have it. He’s gotta be it. He’s gotta pursue it to the fullest.
After nearly fifty years on planet earth, I’ve called myself a lot of things – and others have called me many more. Now I understand, first and foremost, this much is true: trikking is part of my identity. It’s in my DNA. I gotta have it. I gotta be it, gotta pursue it to the fullest.
I’ve been a professional writer all my adult life, so pursuing my love of trikking to the fullest means: go tell it on the mountain!
Two years ago this time, I had no idea there was such a thing called a Trikke. Now I dream of sharing my new-found passion with the whole wide world. My world. Your world. TrikkeWorld. Our new world full of Trikkes and the people who love them. I’m one of them.
My name is Randy Boyd and I am a Trikker.