Getting acquainted

To Old Upper Thomson Road, 29 km. "Click click." The sound of cleats in clipless pedals. The beginning of thrills without spills. I start getting acquainted with my little Red Tank. While I'm a little sad to part with my old, faithful, trusty and rusty Iron Horse, my Tank is nippy. Twitchy even. I persuade bikeshop man to lower the handlebars. That's better. I do the circuit at the former car race track. There are other cars there, parked by the roadside. I suppose, like me, the car occupants have their pulse racing and sweat dripping. The difference is, I'm riding my bike. I stop a few times to tweak my cockpit until it is just so. Rear derailleur isn't behaving itself though. And Tank needs getting used to. At a traffic light, I almost fall beside a police car. And, as if they know I'm on a brand new frame, a few pedestrians and another cyclist buzz dangerously close to me.