A few years ago younger riders started saying “hi, old man,” when I’d show up at rides.
At first I didn’t think anything about it. I was, after all, senior to them but was still riding – a lot – and could hold my own. Then one day I looked in the mirror and locked eyes with someone I hadn’t seen for a while. Staring back at me was my dad. The deep furrows that bunched around my eyes seemed to signal that I only had a few more years of riding left. “How did this happen?” I wondered.