Tale of Two Bikes
Wanna hear another bike story??
We borrowed Tim's parents' bikes, both of which may be manufactured pre-1990's. Need I describe them more?? Working suspension? No. Lightweight? Nope. Maneuverable? Knobbies? Sharp braking action? Uh, no.
And yet another thing. The straw that broke the camel's back. I'm not a big fan of ANY constraints on my pedals. No cage-like structures designed to hold my foot on there please. I want ease in the whole put-my-foot-down-quickly process. This posed the biggest threat to a pleasant bicycle ride this fateful morning.
Oh, I forgot to mention the terrain. ROCK. The sharp shale kind that point straight up in the air. And the trail is lined with cacti. Perfect.
I can pretty much end the story now, right? You know what's going to happen?
Well, all those things probably would have happened if I hadn't had a fit and removed the offending foot baskets before hurtling head-first into a patch of needles and rocks. What did happen is I got angry (for shame) and kicked the pedal, bringing it around and back so fast into my leg that I thought I crushed the bone. Skin torn and bleeding, big bruise forming, excrutiating pain. And embarrassment.
Tim thinks it's a great story. He was egging it all on so I can in good conscience blame him, right? "Come on Laura, you can ride faster than that! I thought you were a mtn biker! Sit back on your seat and ride those bumps!" KICK. AAAAAAAAAH.
Great memories.
We borrowed Tim's parents' bikes, both of which may be manufactured pre-1990's. Need I describe them more?? Working suspension? No. Lightweight? Nope. Maneuverable? Knobbies? Sharp braking action? Uh, no.
And yet another thing. The straw that broke the camel's back. I'm not a big fan of ANY constraints on my pedals. No cage-like structures designed to hold my foot on there please. I want ease in the whole put-my-foot-down-quickly process. This posed the biggest threat to a pleasant bicycle ride this fateful morning.
Oh, I forgot to mention the terrain. ROCK. The sharp shale kind that point straight up in the air. And the trail is lined with cacti. Perfect.
I can pretty much end the story now, right? You know what's going to happen?
Well, all those things probably would have happened if I hadn't had a fit and removed the offending foot baskets before hurtling head-first into a patch of needles and rocks. What did happen is I got angry (for shame) and kicked the pedal, bringing it around and back so fast into my leg that I thought I crushed the bone. Skin torn and bleeding, big bruise forming, excrutiating pain. And embarrassment.
Tim thinks it's a great story. He was egging it all on so I can in good conscience blame him, right? "Come on Laura, you can ride faster than that! I thought you were a mtn biker! Sit back on your seat and ride those bumps!" KICK. AAAAAAAAAH.
Great memories.