The Big Daddy started riding with a group of guys every Saturday morning a couple of years ago. When the weather turned colder, they’d retreat to the warmth and comfort of their suburban homes and put the spandex away until spring.
But not everybody.
The BD found out that one guy continued riding every Saturday morning, regardless of temperatures, and decided to join him. For The BD does not let anybody outman him without a fight. Off he’d go to meet his biking buddy, and even if he came in stiff as a popsicle wrapped in lycra, he’d say that he and Joe had a great ride. Or at least that’s what it sounded like he was saying. It was hard to make out because his lips didn’t move until he’d stood under the vent for a spell.
Before long, they named themselves The Polar Bear Club and he’d set the alarm every cold Saturday to go meet “the club.” I was confused.
Just how many people did you say are in this club?
Well, there’s two of us. Me and Joe.
That’s not a club.
Yes it is.
No……….a club is a group of people.
We’re a club.
The Shriners are a club. The Loyal Order of The Buffalo is a club. The International Order of the Friendly Raccoons is a club. Captain Kidd and the Mateys? Club. Two guys on a bike in January? Not a club.
Two people can make a club.
Yeah, but it’s not really legit since a club is a group of people.
A club is in the eye of the beholder. We’re beholding The Polar Bear Club.
And so it’s gone these past winter months this year and the year before.
This weekend, five bikers showed up to ride before the sun came up with a temperature at 35 degrees. Some snow. Some ice. Some wind.
Some crazy fools on bikes getting their club on with no lodge in sight.
