The world lies right beyond the handlebars of any bicycle
that I happen to be on anywhere from New York Bay to the Vallee de Chevreuse.
Anywhere is high adventure, the walls come down, the cyclist is a loner, and it
is the only way for him to meet other loners. And it works. One seldom exchanges
anything but curses or names of insurance companies with another driver, the car
inhibits human contacts. The bicycle generates them; bikes talk to each other
like dogs, they wag their wheels and tinkle their bells, the riders let their
mounts mingle.
--- Daniel Behrman, The Man Who Loved Bicycles, Chapter 6
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