Wall ride under the moon

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"Ridin' tonight? Meet at the bank at 10:30."

And it's on.

Tonight is when nobody has much need of the daddy. Goofing off with friends in the back streets of Harrisburg at midnight interferes with little other than reading and blogging. It's a time to be a kid again. I think the moon really follows you and your band of brothers wherever you go.

And now I sit here studying, gazing deep into this photo that captures Tim doing a wall ride under the moon.

What does it take to stick a wall ride? How does it feel? These things I know. Not saying I'm great at it or anything. But I know.

You can analyze it kinetically, speaking in terms of linear and centrifugal forces, angles and momentum, and the coefficient of friction between rubber and cement.

You can slice it up kinematically, speaking of the torque and power involved with hurling yourself on a bike toward a wall. Too soon and you fall sideways; too late and you plain rode your bike smack into a wall, you fool.

You can speak at length about how healthy or unhealthy it is for a group of grown men to be out on the streets late at night exploring the realities of gravity and man powered wheels.

You can enter in testosterone and the male psyche and debate whether wall rides are ultimately for good or evil. You can marvel at the gifts of the natural world and the precision geometry of our solar system and our bikes and our situation in relation to each other as friends and people of leisure who choose to spend time in this manner.

You can speak about the Hawthorne Effect and the fact that cameras are routinely brought along on the ride. You can conjure up stats and figures on fitness and well being, various costs, and relative risk.

Yet who can explain

...riding a bike

...on the wall

...under the moon?












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Hawthorne Effect named originally after Hawthorne Factory workers who improved output and appeared to act differently and try harder, just because they knew that they being watched.