Cycle Man

Like any other Intown bike commuter, he wears his helmet, turns on his tail-lights after dusk, and rolls up his slacks to keep them out of the chain -- just an ordinary cyclist on an ordinary bike. But if trouble should arise -- a child riding without a helmet, a wrong-way grate, a driver-side door about to open -- he dashes into the nearest porta-john and turns into ...
[trumpet flourish]

Cycle Man!

• Faster than a jogging stroller,
  
• More powerful than an all-you-can-eat buffet,
  
• Able to climb tall hills in a single gear,
  

It's Cycle Man.

Cycle Man is prepared for any cycling emergency:

• Who always knows whether to turn left or right?
  
• Who always knows where to find the best variety of Clif bars? (At a good price, too.)
  
• Who always has water in his bottle for a self-defense squirt?
  
• Who can put a rude motorist in their place and make them glad for it?
  

Cycle Man. That's who.

Cycle Man protects his secret identity, but there are some clues that might help you spot him:

• Appears to feel at home in a porta-john.
  
• Gets jittery when he hasn't eaten for a couple of hours (blood-sugar withdrawals).
  
• Frequently looking for a place to throw his banana peel.
  
• Pretends to like coffee (it's really decaf with about 8 creamers).
  
• You can sometimes catch him wearing his cleats into the office.
  
• You can sometimes catch him wearing his helmet into the office.
  
• Chooses to take the stairs and beats the elevator without breaking a sweat.
  
• Has a driver's license with his picture on it, but never offers to drive to lunch.
  
• Hangs around in Cycling Advocacy Blogs.
  
• Gets visibly excited when someone suggests riding bikes along four-lane shopping strips with 60+ MPH traffic.
  
• Quick to offer you a Fig Newton.
  
• Left cheek is stretched out by overuse of tongue-in-cheek.
  

Maybe you'll spot Cycle Man one day.