New Breed

This was featured in The New York Observer:

Meet the beautiful bicycle girls of New York, a breed that bears little resemblance to the hard-charging, Spandex-short-wearing species of 20 years ago. Those women were athletes, pumping the pedals, fighting to win. Getting somewhere. Today’s girls—and one always thinks of them as girls, even if they’re well into their 40’s—are more meandering, their long legs flashing along the pot-holed alleys of SoHo and the boutique-lined bike lanes of the West Village. Eco-conscious and ethereal, they wear flowing frocks and gigantic sunglasses but never helmets. Their hair flutters in the breeze as they leave a trail of swooning male pedestrians in their perfumed wake. They’ve been known to weave up the Brooklyn Bridge, holding up traffic as they absent-mindedly chomp on almonds, steering through a stop sign while texting on their BlackBerries.

Minneapolis is not immune from this phenomenon. I can sit outside my house in Powderhorn and watch as dozens of lovely ladies make their way down 17th Ave. on an array of bike ranging from vintage Schwinns and converted fixies to high buck Breezers and Rivendells.

Although these ladies are more likely to be sporting ornate chest tattoos then BlackBerries, like the Celebrities of Tribeca most don’t wear helmets, and nearly all of them wear knee-high boots, even during the summer months.

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

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