This weekend Daren and I traded in the Harley from last weekend and decided to hit the town on good old fashion bicycles.
Daren has spent a lot of time in his life on bikes. His family used to take long family vacations on their bikes and cruise mountain passes with all of their essentials tucked away in the back packs. In fact, they would even do family training rides with weights in their back packs.
My family on the other hand has, to this day, never been on a family bike ride. In fact, many years ago when my Dad went out to buy everyone bikes I came home with a helmet. Thats right, no bike just a helmet. So needless to say, I am not much of a natural on the bike trails.
We hopped on our bikes and headed out into the wild wild world of bike friendly Portland with Daren taking the lead.
One block in and my bike is clicking. Daren has to pull us over into a parking lot where I learned that when my bike makes that sound its not in gear.
Mile one and I'm clipped by a construction a-frame that is inanimate and standing still. I fall off of the curb, take the handle bar in the thigh and launch gracefully out into the street flat on my face. Daren has to come back and check my tires to see if their bent and smile at me while trying not to laugh. At least trying not to laugh too hard.
Mile five while working to master the art of shifting gears my pedals stop turning. Again Daren has to turn around and come ask me what the matter is. We pull off of the flat and paved trail to find that my chain has fallen off. He teaches me how to put it back on and once again we are off.
Mile 7 we are back on the roads. We move over into the turn lane and find the light red. Not a car in sight so we cruise through it and over the railroad tracks. Red and blue lights start flashing and we are pulled over by a cop who threatens us with a $240.00 illegal turn ticket each! We don't get the tickets and promise to obey all traffic laws.
Mile 8 we are riding in our own neighborhood along the Streetcar tracks. For some unknown reason I decide to follow Daren exactly as he moves in and out and over the tracks. The track grabs my tire and I am down in an instant. Skidding across the pavement, splayed out flat with my hands tearing up the asphalt as I slide. I also did this in front of many people. Daren's response to this one "That one made my heart stop. Let's head home"
Had I any pride left by that last fall it would have been seriously bruised.
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5 comments:
oh geez, sarah, that is awful!! hope you have semi-recovered! i have to give you the guts and bravery award because that is precisely why I'm not a 'biker'. I can't even stand spin class...it hurts like hell in the crotch area and i can't get the bike to work right...and there are no streets involved in an aerobics studio. Good luck and WAY TO GO!
Ouch!! Good for you for cowgirling up and carrying on...good luck with your future rides.
truely a gift handed down from your Mother!!!
truely a gift handed down from your Mother!!!
OMG - I laughed not at you with you.
I think the lesson to be learned here is.....Sarah is NOT a biker.
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