The Cannondale Girl, August 9th, 2025
It was the winter of 1992-93. I was living in my Condo in Edmonds, WA, a mile north of the Seattle city border. I was forty and in good shape. I rode my old green 1972 Schwinn Super Sport ten-speed from my condo down to Green Lake and back every day. It was about 25 miles round-trip. It always seemed to be raining that winter.
I’d rebuilt the Super Sport a few years ago and repainted it. It was pretty fast for an old bicycle. I think it weighed about 30 pounds.
This one cold and rainy afternoon, I was on my way home. I stopped at the light a couple of blocks from my condo.
Pulling up next to me is a young woman on an orange Cannondale R500 racing bicycle. They were expensive, had the best gears, and only weighed 22.5 pounds. She had blonde hair and wore orange racing tights that said “Cannondale” on them. She was a serious bike racer.
She struck up a conversation with me there in the cold rain as we waited for the light to change. So, I looked her over.
I could tell she was interested in me. She was very fit, had huge thighs, and a nice smile. But I was wet, tired, and those huge thighs scared me. She could crush my Nethers like a couple of walnuts.
So we said our pleasant good-byes. She turned right, I went straight a block, and then left for my condo.
Bicycle seduction is more common than people think, but I took a pass. I still think about those huge orange Lycra thighs and get the shivers.
TJM
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