Christmas Morning Ride

I distinctly remember Christmas mornings when we lived in Pasadena.  We would either drive around or ride our bikes and it never fails.  I would spot several kids out on the streets, bright and early, usually between 8 and 9 am, riding their brand new bicycles.  It almost became a game where the object is to spots as many kids (and sometimes adults) with their new bikes.  And those new rides are pretty easy to spot -- clean paint, shiny chrome, dark brand new tires.  Fast forward to Christmas morning, 2011 in Rancho Cucamonga.  Around 9am today, I decided to take a short 21 mile ride to Upland and back, just to get burn off some of that ham, eggrolls, apple cider, wine and cake.  But much to my disappointment, all I saw was one kid on a new Razor scooter on Etiwanda and Banyan -- in fact, I specifically rode on the Pacific Electric Trail to see if any families are out riding.  Nada.  Saw a few runners but that's about it.  On my way back, I took Baseline Road and as I waited for the light to turn green on Haven, a Dodge station wagon pulled alongside and I hear the windows rolling down.  My next thought was I don't want to have to deal with a bunch of characters making some wise-ass joke about cyclists or worse, getting hit with objects.  Over the years I've had my share of verbal encounters with occupants of these metal coffins on wheels (called cars) -- and the last thing I need is some redneck to ruin my Christmas ride.  (Years ago, riding down Foothill Blvd, I was once hit in the helmet with a snowball that originated from a pickup truck with a truckbed full of snow.)  Instead, I heard with a couple nice, "Merry Christmas" greetings.  Although it took me a couple seconds to get re-oriented that this was a friendly, I did respond back with a "Merry Christmas, too, man."  I think I need to chill a bit.