Not like riding a bike

Took the pennyfarthing out for an afternoon of practice today: train down to town, then walked it to the big, traffic-free bike-pathy rec area and spent a couple of hours scooting, coasting, mounting, and bailing. By the end, I was up to "scoot, mount, and just about propel on the flat" - which I'm happy with.

Everyone, absolutely everyone, broke into smiles seeing it. Old guys grinned. Young guys grinned. Middle-aged lesbians grinned. They all wanted to know more: this is not the machine for a quiet life. BMX kids said "woah, awesome" so much I thought I'd turned into Keanu Reeves. I had to stop for four photocalls and a Downs girl in a special-needs trike (steered from behind by tiller) burst into applause. And I still can't ride the bloody thing -- yet!

It's odd how different it is from a regular bike. It's closer to learning to swim: a series of movements to get right, and slow progressive physical proprioceptive learning with dollops of raw nerve. Easier than snowboarding. It was cold and tough enough to demand a little apres (geckoinpdx , the Jäger is your fault!) before heading home. And now I'm sore, dammit, that machine is fifty pounds and four feet high, she's a large lady and she takes a lot o'wrasslin'.