I love my electric bike. But it’s no longer cool. It’s now legal to ride. Mine was duct-taped and bungied all summer to get me to work on the daily road to resurrection for my light bulb project. I loved the informality and uncertainty of a one horsepower motor strapped precariously to the frame of my 1989 hybrid Bianchi, still showing scars of a crash that nearly killed me in Gatineau in ’90. I’m pro helmet. Look closely at my right eye for the stitches scar.
Jasper is taking karate. Simon wishes he could too. He’s a real swinger.