Yeah, I went on that bike again.
Well, it’s a beautiful evening so I figure let’s get on this thing. This
weekend, my father and I adjusted the back wheel. I switched out that
torture rack they call a seat with the old grandma seat on my one-speed
coaster-brake bike. It was pretty easy. The one-speed just need a
ratchet to take it off and the new bike had a little release that you
could tighten.
And I was off.
Nearly made it to the end of the alley.
Nearly.
Hit a bump in some uneven payment. Back tire. Slid off. It held on to
the very end of the frame, but nearly was going to start bounding down
the road. Luckily, caught myself on my feet. Wasn’t going too fast,
which frankly with my ability, was never going to happen anyway.
Walked the bike home again thinking this bike has been walked five times
farther than I ever rode it and gave careful consideration to just
taking up walking and forgetting this nightmare. But I realigned the
back tire again and tightened the hell out of it. I figured if this
doesn’t work, Dad is going to have to weld it.
I climbed back on this puppy, and it actually rode uneventful for a
while. I decided to go drop off a deposit I needed to make at the bank.
It was, of course, closed by the time I got there . . . but . . .
I GOT THERE!
That was enough for me. I gleefully started riding home. I nearly ran
into some old fella on the sidewalk (I don’t drive in the street–I’d be
dead by now if I did) and I swore I recognized him. I always figure old
folks know me because of my involvement in the German clubs and how my
radio show averages a Eulogy every two months. He’s probably, as I’m
typing this, complaining about me to yet another granddaughter that I’ll
never have a chance with.
That’s when a small terrier or something started yipping at me. I’ll
have you know I maintained my balance and I expect mucho respecto for
that.
I was now in the home stretch when this gorgeous woman is walking her
dog (what the heck with all these dogs in my neighborhood today anyway?
I thought at least one of my neighbors was a serial killer in the making
and would torture and maim these things at night–but NO). Obviously, I
became a tad, er, distracted. Pulled a Jack Tripper right into a fifty
foot, class two utility pole (NOT A TELEPHONE POLE). Apparently the jerk
that buys these things (me) gets some pretty good quality based on how
soundly it knocked me off the bike. My new seat came off, too. But that
was easy enough to replace. Sadly, the gorgeous woman didn’t take pity
or anything (that would have been a Mentos moment) so I collected my
teeth and got back on the bike.
I would rate the trip like a six. Only sustained minor injuries. May be
a while before I get on that death trap again.
Back to the X-Box.
Tim