Red Baron

[Omaha, NE.] The following scene unfolded while soft-pedaling through North Omaha during yesterday's lunch ride.

"Check it out," Leah says to me while motioning excitedly over her shoulder.

I look back from where we just came and see some guy on a red mountain bike furiously hammering down on his pedals. The bike is a heap. A Schwinn, in fact. The rider's wearing no helmet, let alone a shirt. But he does have a lit cigarette in his mouth.

"Oh boy, here we go" I mutter to myself. At that moment, I immediately knew:

1) Being overtaken was imminent

2) Shim won't go down without a fight.

I drew a deep breath, then call out with my best booming voice:

"WE GOT A BOGEY BEARING DOWN, SIX O'CLOCK, AND I CAN'T SHAKE HIM!"

Just then, the shirtless wonder blasts by at 14 MPH. That may not sound like much, but when you're JRA at 11 MPH, it was quite impressive. Even more so considering he was dragging on a cigarette.

The attacker dusts all of us, including Shim.

Shim looks back to us in wonderment as to what just transpired, then in one seemingly preordained movement, clicks through his SRAM drivetrain while turning forward and jumping to cover the gap.

It was all over in about two seconds. Shim covered it, the bogey gave up, and they both sat up for a few pictures and smiles to preserve the memory.

Oh boy indeed.