by Abel M. Salas The bicycle ride from the neighborhood bordering Hazard Park and the USC Health Sciences campus to Highland Park is grueling. A stack of 50 tabloid-sized, 28-page newsprint magazines packed into a worn canvas shoulder bag gets heavier than you might expect once you’ve crossed through Lincoln Heights and cut over the 110 Freeway on Pasadena Ave. to Figueroa and Avenue 39. From there, it’s an uphill climb all the way to Eagle Rock, and the prospect of my first real acupuncture session loses a bit of its luster. The restless, fitful few hours of slumber just before daybreak—and the optimistic decision to make the trip astride the seat of a used but sturdy 21-speed trail bike—bear down on me just as heavily as the midday sun. Recalling how I came by the two-wheeled transport, an early model issued by a UK-based performance bike maker, for a fraction of its original cost from the back of a pick-up does little to ease the unanticipated exertion.  Even ruminations...