It always come to my mind the image of Don Quixote when I see old men riding their bikes. The bikes are their imaginary horses, the wrecked thin old horses, knowing their masters so well that no words are necessary between them.
To watch Don Quixote(s) and their bikes passing through the road is drop-dead romantic.
Finally, having quite lost his wits, he was seized with the strangest conceit any madman in the world has ever had. It seemed to him that it was requisite and necessary, for the augmentation of his honor and for the benefit of the commonwealth, that he should become a knight-errant and ride throughout the world with his horse and his arms to seek adventures. (Miguel de Cervantes Saavedra, Don Quixote)
Photo by Guest House Zoar