REFLECTION

For some, the blog has been noticeably quiet, and rightfully so. The race season is winding down and the "need" to maintain form seems less significant. But above that, the last two weeks have been quieted and overshadowed by the passing of a dear friend.

I have known Jim Laue since 1993 when I bought my first "real" bike; a black Diamondback Sorrento. Since that time, cycling has been a focal point of my life and with that, Cycleworld has been the hub. In 1996 several of us traveled to Tallahassee to race. Diamondback had just released a series of full-suspension bikes and Jim had bought one for the shop; an orange V-Link. I was still riding my Sorrento, but just before we started, Jim asked if I'd like to race the V-Link. Duh . . . . yeah! Today, I don't change anything the day of a race, but back then it was a surreal opportunity. I raced and crashed. I pin-balled off two trees just before the finish. I hit so hard I couldn't hardly stand up. It took a second to get my feet under me. I soft pedaled out of the woods half loopy and half scared that I was about to have to pay for damages to a brand new bike. Jim and Ken Green met me as I crossed the line and helped me to the truck. Jim wasn't concerned about the bike at all. He did seem generally concerned about me, until he realized I was fine, then he turned back into a wise ass, but that was Jim.

I also remember the first time I went into the shop to buy something and received a DISCOUNT from Jim. I knew I had made it. I was told long ago that there were only several people that Jim would cut prices for and then it was only on good days. For what ever reason and to what ever degree, I made it into Jim's circle.

Towards the end of this past summer, I called Jim one morning and asked him to go for a ride with me. He felt good and agreed. We rode out Palmyra to hwy 32. We had to stop for 15 minutes or so at the crossroads because Jim's heart was acting erratically. As we turned to head back in, it returned to normal. Rather than do the sensible thing and head back in, we headed to Sasser. We motor passed a tractor, refilled out of an old hose in Sasser, cruised down Tallahassee road, and talked all the way through the neighborhood back to the shop.

Jim's passing has been terribly hard for some of us. Jim was part of our extended-family. Gene said it best at the memorial. Cycling communities develop into families; you have brothers, uncles, aunts, crazy cousins, fathers and grandfathers. Jim sat at the head of the table in our family and although his seat is now empty, his influence will linger on with every pedal stroke that many of us will take.

Jim will definitely be missed . . . but more importantly, he'll be remembered.