Now that the weather is getting nicer, it seems an appropriate time to get the bike out. It’s been a long cold winter, and it’s time for those two wheels to meet the road again. Yes, I love that feeling of sailing down the road with the breeze blowing in your face. The sharp, stabbing sensation of bugs bouncing off your cheeks and forehead like little bb’s being shot from the gun you used as a child. You’re the king of the road when you’re out there on that bike. People notice you. People respect you. People wish they were you! It’s a beautiful thing.
With that in mind, I went to my sisters place and picked up my bicycle, which came out of storage this weekend.
I haven’t been on it since the Fall. I’ve missed it. Want proof? Check the gut baby, check the gut! Quality time was most certainly in order.
The first thing I noticed as I inspected my ride was that it had 2 flat tires. An annoyance, for sure, but nothing that came unexpected. A quick hit with the compressor and they inflated like my stomach after a good, hard swig of RC Cola. Of course, when I let my air out, it’s a lot louder, with a deep, rich tone, as opposed to the slow, stealth escape of air from my tires. That, however, is another blog for another day.
As I climbed aboard my sister, whom in her old age has apparently developed a concern for her wiser, stellar, older brother, which was previously, and noticeably absent in our childhood, said, “Where is your helmet? Don’t you need a helmet?”
I assured her that I was well equipped to ride a bike, and besides, real men don’t wear helmets. I neglected to reflect on a previous concussion as a result of a horrific bike crash in my youth. But really, what benefit is there to living in the past? Taking her consideration under advisement, but not really, I was off.
I almost made it an entire block. Almost. I was moving at a pretty good clip, weaving back and forth across the street, not unlike a bird flying in and out of the trees. Feeling confident in my equipment I attempted to kick that baby into high gear and really move. Note to self… don’t be kicking any babies into high gear.
At this moment, my chain instantly fell off and immediately jammed between the sprockets. This, in turn, made it impossible to move the pedals, which, in turn, caused me to pretty much lose my balance. Luckily, I still had my brakes, right? Wrong! Should have checked them when conducting my pre-ride inspection I suppose. Hindsight is 20/20 as they say.
As I barrelled down on a stop sign, which, obviously, was appropriately positioned at an intersection, I was grateful that I had began writing my will after my jogging incident (refer to this blog), as I was confident I would soon be putting that will to good use. I had two options in the moment. Option 1, try the front brakes and suffer any resulting pain and permanent damage as a result. This option was quickly ruled out as I desire to have children someday. Option 2 was, try and maintain balance, blow the intersection, pray there are no cars, coast to a stop. I believe in God, and I believe He loves me despite my stupidity. Option 2 it was!
I did make it through the intersection alive, and I did eventually come to a stop. I proceeded to push the bike back to my sisters place, where my tools are. Of course, in true macho man fashion, I downplayed the entire incident. The last thing I needed to hear at this point was my little sister basking in her self proclaimed “rightness” at her counsel to wear a helmet.
After about 20 minutes of grunting, moaning, and, if I’m being honest, an utter farce of a show, trying to demonstrate my mechanical abilities, the chain was free and I was ready to go again. Victory was mine… or at least, for the sake of saving face, I was bound to fake a good victory!!! I managed to get the bike home, parked it on my patio, called my dad, and told him I was in the market for a new one. One with with gears and brakes and what not. But I’m still not getting a helmet!
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