Yesterday, we rode our bikes. It was an excellent day to ride – sunny and about 18C. We rode fro our house towards the Santa Ana Bike Trail and rode that one down to Huntington Beach. The Santa Ana Bike Trail is a flood channel, one of these channels made famous by movies such as the motorcycle chase in “Terminator 2” or the beginning scenes from “In Time”.
From Huntington, we rode south along the coast towards Newport with one of the many pelotons that ride the coast highway on weekends. The cities along the coast between Huntington and Camp Pendleton are all pretty posh and Newport in particular has a high density of exotic car dealers. So it was not too surprising when we saw Lamborghini pass us….and then another and then four more and then two more and then five more and then a BMW One series M with a gigantic rear wing and then another handful of Lamborghinis. It was quite a spectacle. I loved it. The cars were ridiculous, with almost comical colour – there we purples, shades of gray angular camouflage, greens, blues, everything but the traditional colours of Italian sports cars of my youth: red or black. So these guys are having a ball, including the gunshots like bangs from misfirings. We were all waiting at a traffic light and everyone was very civilized, when I noticed the exhaust smell. And that’s where my inner conflict started. The Motörhead inside of me loved it – all of it. However, my cyclist-self was less amused. The smell, the stench not funny. But I also felt a little sorry for these guys. There they are with these kick-ass cars, performance out the wazoo, yesterday confined to public roads with traffic light and us fragile bicyclists. I imagine, that it would be so much more fun to race the car around a track balls out, where the driver’s inadequacies would be compensated by large and generous sand or pebble run-outs. The light turned green, these guys accelerated and enjoyed a wrinkle free state of being for a few seconds and then they had to stop again at the next red light, where they kept going straight and we turn towards the bay.
I know pretty unexciting, but I wonder, why on a weekend, they wouldn’t go rent a track and go bonkers – I would.