BICYCLE DIARIES

This one time, John and Brandon and myself were going to school, Jr. High, actually we returning to school from the doughnut shop, or maybe even going to school from the doughnut shop, I was riding Brandon's bicycle, it was low, like a BMX, he was riding my 18 speed, and John was riding his own bike. We were sort of racing, weaving in and out of each other's paths and cutting each other off as the norm was, I weaved to pass between a telephone pole and a fence and the next thing I knew my butt was on the ground, the bike was in the air in front of me. I sat for a second or two quite confused as the bike came down to earth in front of me, both Brandon and John saw that I was no longer on the bike and stopped to turn around, I looked up at them and noticed what had knocked me off the bike. Someone had nailed a piece of wood between the telephone pole and the fence where I had attmpted to pass. The handlebars on the bike were low enough to allow my hands to pass under, and the bar had caught me right across the shoulders and had done so with so little force that I did not feel it. The bike simly lept on going while the bar gently knocked me onto my @$$. If I had been riding my bike, my finger would have been crushed between the piece of wood and the handlebars, I felt very lucky.

Another time, we made John crash, he had borrowed someone'd Univega, and when he bit it, we saw the little Emblem pop up in the air, spinning, and then fly off into the grass somewhere. John was livid, he called us, Damien and I, all sorts of names, I felt bad, but I thought it was still pretty funny how he crashed.

The worst was when Brandon and I forced Damien to crash into a car or gutter, I dont know which he hit, but he had a pretty good cut on the side of his hand. I felt bad about that one too, and I didn't think there was anything particularly funny about it...I think that is when we stopped forcing each other off of the road.

My sister bought a new bike this one time...It was a decent bike, a 21 speed mountain bike, but it was heavier than my green and white Huffy, which was the second best bike I have ever owned...lasted me ten years, and I even sold it for 20 dollars at the end, anyhow K and I decided to go for a ride, to test out her new bike. We set out towards the country side, the farms that slowly becoming extinct around the neighborhood, riding at a leisurely pace. We had been riding for a good 15 minutes or so and I was looking out across the fields of grass or dirt, following behind my sister. Suddenlt some dust caught my eye...it was a trail of dust, and I was seeing the dissapating end. I casually followed the trail towards us to see what was making it, and then I saw it... a large, mean, farm dog barreling down on us at top speed. Without saying a word (aghyaaa, does not count as a word) I stood up and started pedaling for my life...in a second I was past my sister, in another i was two bike lengths ahead, and speeding up. She heard my grunt and saw me speed off, but didn't know why, she turned, and by this time the dog had covered some serious ground, and It was MUCH MUCH closer than when I had spotted it, she gasped in suprise, and then started pedaling like mad herself... I am fairly sure that she shouted my name, half pleading for me to wait, half mad at me for taking off without warning, at me as she came...we rode as fast as we could for half a mile...to the boundary of the farm I guess, until the dog peeled off and turned back home. We stopped and rested, and had a good laugh about it, though K was still upset that I had ditched her. I guess I think of self preservation first.

Early on in my life I had given up on riding a bike. I couldn't use the training wheels because K already knew how to ride a bike, and didn't want them on...I think it may have been her bike I was learning on, anyhow, most of my bike riding at that age consisted of my dad pushing me with enough force for me to cruise for several meters and then crash into the street. As I got better at the balance thing, they told me to look ahead in the street to where I was going...He pushed and I went, and I was doing really good, I had a spot where I was going picked out, and I was looking at it, it was about ten housed down the street. Unfortunately my steering wasn't that great and, though I managed to keep myself on the bike for the longest period on my prersonal record, I piloted the bicycle right into the mailbox. My parents said to me, as I lay in a twisted heap of little kid, bicycle, and mailbox, "We told you to look where you were going!"
I said,"*sob* I did!! *sob* I was looking there! *sob*" as I pointed to the house that I had picked out, away down the street. They thought that was pretty funny.