Bike Riding and Bad Hair Days

I had a great hair day today, right up to the time I put a bike helmet on my head and rode to work. Yep-I ride my bike, weather permitting, to work everyday. And I wear a helmet-it's usually one of the first questions people ask, and I use a messenger bag to cart my daily goodies with me.

I don't live very far from my place of employment, and I started with riding the campus bus. When the bus reduced their service this past summer, I started thinking about different ways to get to work. Walking is an option, but when the heat is above 95 degrees, which seemed to be the case most of the summer, the walk home is beastly. So I pulled my bike out of the basement, aired up the tires, dusted off my helmet, being sure to get all the spider webs out of there, and hopped on.

I'm not the most efficient biker. I am confounded by all the different speed combos, and my bike seems to be rough when it shifts from gear to gear. Mostly, I try to keep it on the same numbers, give or take a gear shift or two. I get kind of wobbly when I'm checking to see who is behind me, so I added a review mirror to one of my handles. It works pretty well, unless the road I'm on is really bumpy, which makes the reflection kind of blurry. It also needs to be constantly adjusted so that I can actually see behind me. I didn't realize how slow I pedaled until the college kids came back and started passing me on the street! My other challenge seems to be turning corners. When I was younger, I had this move down, in addition to riding without my hands on the handlebars, but in my older years, my balance sometimes fails me. On a ride home a couple of weeks ago, I didn't navigate the turn onto a side street and rode right into the curb! I flew over the handle bars and onto the dry hard ground. As I lay there, splayed flat, doing a quick mental checklist to determine if anything was broken, I wondered if, heaven forbid, anybody saw me. I sat up, sure enough there was a car driving up to ask if I was OK. All I could to was nod as the tears were welling up and threatening to spill. It would seem that the biggest injury was to my hand, some road rash on my arm and knocking off the visor portion of my helmet. I debated on calling in  the cavalry to come help me home, but I decided I was fit to ride. Did I mention that I was also a pretty tough cookie?

It would seem that I've joined some secret society of bike riders here on campus. When people spot my helmet, it's met with comments of admiration, confessions of their own treks to campus and a divulging of their personal opinions regarding saving the planet with no pollution emissions, blah blah blah. Mostly, I ride because it's good for my health as well as the pocketbook. But the hair, well-for now I'm proudly showing off my 'helmet hair' to my fellow brethren.