Plus one

Riding a bike is pretty simple for most people. We learned how to ride as a kid, and some of us just never grew up.  Riding a bike well - now that's a different subject.  For some, riding is something that they do occasionally - renting a bike at the lake or the beach, pumping up the tires and hooking up the trailer to take the kids to the park, or maybe doing a Sunday afternoon trail ride on one of the paved trails around the region.
Or maybe it's doing rides with friends on the weekends. Going for a breakfast ride or to ride for coffee along the greenway.  Or maybe do part of the Grand Rounds and wind up at a cafe for lunch.
At some point, some part of some people make the slow (or fast) slide into 'bikers' (or riders, depending on your upbringing).  This is accompanied by the inevitable acquisition of a helmet, actual bike shorts, and maybe even a jersey. Which is generally followed by the sad realization that the bike you've been riding since high school isn't really up to the task of riding from here to wherever in the company of whomever it was that you wanted to ride with in the first place, and they aren't really in a mood to wait for you at every single intersection. So down to your local bike shop you go, and the salesperson says "you would be really happy with this year's Hornsucker Zipflash".  It's right there with the Makoozie, and we've got a special discount package on it.  And since it feels *so* much better than the cast iron pig with octagonal wheels that you've been riding, you buy it.  And you feel pretty good about it - at least until you go for a ride with your friends, and now they only have to wait at every other turn.  And as they talk over coffee about tires and chains and things, you listen - and decide that maybe if you get better tires, and maybe a new jersey, you'll be able to keep up better.  And you know what comes next.  Plus one.
You are standing in the bike shop and the owner walks by and sees you eyeballing the Velociraptor 7000 that's a replica of the bike that won some big race you've never heard of, and he says "looks like it's your size, take it for a ride..." and you do. And now you have 3 bikes in the garage, not just two.  And you are trying to explain to your significant other what a great deal this was, and why it is going to help you achieve your fitness goal which will make you a better performer at work,  And. And. Plus One.
And then comes the fall, and you actually can keep up with the guys.  And occasionally be the first one to the top of that hill, and your buddies are all congratulating you on how much you've improved (and they really do mean it).  So now when you sit around drinking coffee on Saturday morning after your 80 mile base ride, and the subject of tomorrow's ride comes up, 'the boys' are talking about going on a little ride that's on gravel roads - just about 50 miles, but it's epic countryside, and you don't want to miss it, but... Your Velociraptor only takes 23mm tires, and it's stiff as a board.  And one of the guys says "I've got a spare cyclocross bike you can ride".  And so you do.  And it's pretty fun feeling dirt on your face, sand in your crotch, and damn that was a cool picture with all of you after the ride, all covered with mud.  And Joe casually mentions that he thinks your friendly local bike shop has the Mudpuppy like his (only black) that's about your size, and clearance priced.  Plus one.
Somewhere along this progression, your sainted wife, who has turned a blind eye to all this adult male pirate-looks-at-50 foolishness, watched you buy new toys, and really hasn't made a big deal about it decides that perhaps she'd like to ride more with you.  Since she is actually pretty fit and active, and you being the smart partner who knows that buying her a cheap bike is not going to make her a better rider, you take her down to your friendly LBS (who by this time is rolling out the red carpet and firing up the cappuccino machine when they see you approach).  And they get her set up with a nice woman specific Terraplaner 3000, helmet, jersey and matching shorts, and all the trimmings as you calmly watch her lay down her platinum card.  Plus one.
Pretty soon, she's riding with you, riding with a group of women on Sundays and Tuesdays, and mentions that a grocery bike would be really good to have so that *you* can go to the store by bike instead of in the car.  Plus one.
And now in December, those same friends are calling you to go ride down along the river on something called a 'fat bike', and since you are both bored to tears riding the trainer, you make another trip to your LBS to get her a fatbike so she can go for rides with the girls all winter long.  Plus one.
And then you realize that she's having a lot more fun than you are, and you know what happens next...
Plus one.