Life per Gallon

Yesterday I went for a bike ride. At one point, I was pedaling up McLeod Road, inching my way up the hill, when I caught up with a man on the adjacent sidewalk. He was wearing a yellow Pearl Izumi vest — ah, perhaps a cyclist? — and walking with a cane.

I looked over, smiled, and said, "You want to race to the top?"

We both paused in our climb and introduced ourselves.

"Hi, I'm Fred." 

"Hi, I'm Sarah." 

Fred reached into his belt bag and said he had a book for me. 

I was confused. A book? For me? 

He handed it to me. 

I looked at the cover. "Life per Gallon." There was a photograph of a cyclist touring down a road, and beneath it: "Writings of Frederick Su." 

Ah, Fred was giving me a book he had written.