As I share my tale, I must disclose that I arrived at your illumination through a comet—a 1955 Comet Bicycle, to be exact. You see, I possess a collection of vintage bicycles, and my newest acquisition is the aforementioned Comet, which I did not procure for its own merits, but rather for the valuable headlight and generator that adorned it.
After some diligent polishing and refurbishing, I diligently affixed the generator and headlight onto another of my trusty steeds – a 1979 Raleigh 3-speed. The joy of traversing the local country roads on sultry summer nights was a sensory feast for my soul, as the generator hummed in unison with the crickets and the wind. The trifles and tribulations of the workday dissolved into oblivion with every pedal stroke.
Alas, my nocturnal sojourns were never completely solitary, as the occasional car would emerge from behind. Despite my bike’s reflectors, I could not help but feel as though I were invisible to the distracted drivers with their coffee, cell phones, GPS devices, and DVDs playing for their offspring.
After a few such rides, I sought solace at my local bicycle shop and procured one of your clip-on strobe lights. As a purist at heart, I eschewed anything permanent that might mar the authenticity of my vintage bicycle. Furthermore, the archaic tail light on my ride proved woefully inadequate in alerting today’s inattentive drivers to my presence.
Thus, with the strobe light clipped to my tool bag, I ventured out into the dusk, lights flashing with an entrancing rhythm. Even before the night had fully fallen, oncoming vehicles slowed and offered me a respectful berth. There is something ineffable about the pulsating flashes that solicits a response that a continuous light cannot replicate.
