I can’t sit on my couch. The tick of spinning hubs is too distracting. It’s an all-day, everyday parade past my front lawn during the summer. Old bikes clank, new bikes hum. Young, old, somewhere in between, they roll by smiling, a bit dusty, dog in tow. Solo, in groups of six. Inevitably, someone will recognize my van and stop by.
Read Full Feature Article here: The Tipping Point
Read full feature article here: The Tipping Point