General

My bicycle covers the miles and though I pedal, it feels so automatic. My legs remain in motion as my thoughts stay in the moment, admiring each blossom and bird. These wheels have touched so much of Earth and always are so keen for more... this iron horse and me, we explore as if it were a migratory calling.

General

But Alex wasn't riding just any bike. He still had his Condor Junior Roadracer, hand-built for him in the workshop that had been open for business in the same street in Holborn for more than fifty years. He'd recently had it upgraded with an integrated brake and gear lever system fitted to the handlebar, and he only had to flick his thumb to feel the bike click up a gear, the lightweight titanium sprockets spinning smoothly beneath him.

By james, May 10, 2012.

Found in Alex Rider, Point Blank, authored by Anthony Horowitz.

General

My hair whipped back as I let my feet off the pedals of my bike. I was flying down the hill at a speed that could rival a cheetah. My bike really isn't anything special, it was just the cheapest one at the bike store. But so far, it hasn't been anything but amazing.

By dino, November 2, 2014.
General

Jen handed me a bike. It must have been a decade or more old and was manufactured by a company who didn't believe in economizing on the amount of metal they used. Pumping this tank up a hill would be worse than walking. The tires were bald and the break-pads were unevenly worn.

General

The bicycle's seat was elongated so that it more like a mini couch than a saddle. The chrome handle bars were a design statement too, their shape echoed that of the ol' Softtail Harley my Dad used to polish every Sunday morning. It was a throwback from another era. I flicked the label over to find it was a Chopper, circa 1984, a collectors item now. It was perfect, either expertly refurbished or else never enjoyed. I didn't need it, it was expensive and frivolous. Yet my mind had already placed it in my entrance way on a fancy stand looking stylish against he walnut floors.