“How old do you figure that thing was? A few hundred years?” Nick wonders aloud, though none of us answer.
“I think I’ll freeze it right here for the cover.” Jace points to the screen where I’m frozen in mid-air, arms wide as I launch off the log.
“Makes sense,” I agree. “It’s probably the best shot we’ve got so far.”
“Especially with these wildflowers in the background. They really make the color pop.” Jace moves the mouse to point out the flowers on the screen.
“They make the color pop? Dude,” scoffs Trevor as he takes a seat behind me, “we’re making a bike film not an art documentary.”
“Bike films can be artistic,” Jace objects. “I kind of want to experiment with that, okay by you Axel?”
“You’re the film guy,” I defer to him, as usual.
“I’m with Trevor on this one. The goal is to show your skill on a bike, not our skills with a camera.” Nick reclines in his chair with a frown that darkens the blue of his eyes.
“What’s wrong with both?” Jace runs a frustrated hand through his dark brown hair. “Tell me, have you ever seen a view as incredible as the one from that pass?”
“How could I appreciate the view when I was trying to stay on the road?” Trevor shakes his head.
“Can you believe cars drive on that? What happens if they’re going the opposite direction? How do they even get around each other?” This time we’ve all got an answer for Nick’s question.
“Very carefully.”
“One has to back up.”
“This is why I ride a bike.”
“For real though, that was a great ride.” Nick kicks his feet up on the table and sighs contentedly. “We should do it again.”
“I wouldn’t mind doing it without the cameras. Just so we all can enjoy it.” Jace fusses with the playback, adjusting the exposure.
“You? Without a camera?” Trevor snorts beside me. “I’m surprised you haven’t figured out a way to permanently attach it to your hand, now you’re talking about leaving it home?”
“You do know the camera is the reason you get to travel the world and ride a bike for a living, right?” He sounds just like a dad who's disappointed in his kid. It’s pretty fucking hilarious, because that’s exactly how his own dad sounds when Jace and I say stupid shit.
“Yes, Daddy,” Trevor mocks him. “I know how films work. I’m just saying I’ve never seen you ride without the camera. I’m actually glad you’re willing to put it down for a day. Sometimes, you just have to enjoy the moment.”
Jace, Nick, and I exchange a startled look before Nick lurches forward and tips Trevor out of his chair.
“Dude, what was that for?” Trevor shouts as he picks himself off the ground.
“You have to enjoy the moment? What are you, the Dali Lama?” Nick chokes through a bout of laughter.
“I’m more enlightened than you fuckers, that’s for sure.” Trevor sits back down, well out of reach of Nick. “You miss the whole point of riding if you’re too busy looking through a lens to feel the bike underneath you.”
“You like the way it purrs between your legs?” Nick does his best imitation of a sultry voice, which is pretty fucking bad.
“The wind blowing through your hair?” Jace joins in. I nearly topple my chair trying not to laugh.
“Shut up. You know what I mean.” Trevor crosses his arms in front of his chest with an angry scowl.
“Why don’t youenlightenus.” I shove at his arm.
“Screw you guys,” he pouts as Nick, Jace, and I double over.
We’re all being stupid, but this is one of the things I like most about my job. Everyone in this room has the same love for the bike I do. Over the years, we’ve pushed each other to be better, kept our egos in check, and laughed our asses off while doing it. Moments like this keep riding fun, especially during those times when your body starts to protest living on the road or climbing back in the saddle.
“You missed your calling, man. Should’ve been a poet.” Nick holds his stomach.
