It’s official: I am a bike nut.

Or maybe just a nut.

I meant to post here in March, to celebrate my one year anniversary of taking testosterone as part of my medical transition. I also meant to post here in May, to celebrate my one year anniversary of commuting to work by bicycle. (I have not made it every single day, but probably more than 90% of the time.)

But instead I’m posting here because I took my partner’s bike into the shop where I work. It had a mysterious problem so I took it in on the bus. After a couple of mechanics had fixed the bike, and I was clocked out, I decided to take it for a test ride. I intended to just ride it back to the bus stop, because this bike is too big for me, plus it was raining and there were occasional flashes of lightening. Oh yeah, and I didn’t have my helmet. Or lights.

This bike rules. It’s faster, smoother, more responsive, and better in just about every way when compared to my trusty old mountain bike. I had so much fun riding it to the bus stop I decided to ride it to the next bus stop. And the next. And ultimately I figured, ah, screw it — I’ll just ride it all the way home! Sure, I can’t reach the shifters too well, but it’s not that far to ride, and this is just so much fun.

I didn’t go very fast, ’cause, again, it was raining and I had no lights or helmet. But I laughed out loud for the sheer joy of riding this bicycle. Then I laughed some more because I was being crazy.

I considered whether, if I were to have an accident during this ill-advised ride, it would be ironic. No, I decided: ironic is when you never wear a helmet, and then on your one helmet-wearing ride you’re hit by a car. That would be ironic. Taking a foolhardy trip without the proper equipment and getting hurt just makes sense.

Fortunately, I was fine. I rode home smiling as fat, warm drops of this summer thunderstorm soaked me to the skin. And I hate getting wet in the rain, hate it. I was smiling because I was riding a wonderful bike, and it was fun! I thought: this definitely makes me a bike nut. It is official.

Ironically, the problem with the bike recurred just as I was about to turn onto my street. I sheepishly brought the bike back into the shop. But this time I also brought my helmet.