Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Mad Bike Riding Adventures...




Ah yes, I was off on one of my mad adventure cycling adventures…I happened upon the Queensland Rail Trail when taking a spin on my road bike.   And decided that, even though it was a gravel trail, I ride it…with my road bike!  


For those of my readers who are not familiar with a road bike, it’s a 10 speed looking bike, with the curved down handle bars, that looks just like those bikes we use to ride around on in the eighties. As a matter of fact, my bike is from the eighties. It’s got some really fresh rims on it though. Fat, carbonite spokes. Use to have both tires like that until one of my fellow riders fell into me. We were just standing there waiting to cross the street, and she falls into me and breaks my beautiful carbonite spokes. And since they are the eighties style, nobody sells ‘em any more. So, now my front tire is just like everyone else’s. Dull. Expect I made sure my new tires had blue strips on them to match the bike.



Anyway, kids do not try this at home.   I forgot to mention the most crucial part of a road bike is that it has these skinny little tires that are pumped up to 100 psi.   Needless to say, they do not do well on gravel.   But, the lure of the country bike path was too strong, and I couldn’t resist.  Besides, it wasn’t like I was actually attempting to go mountain bike riding with my road bike or anything.  And I had a bike pump and a spare tube, and I know how to change a bike tube (well, in theory anyway), so, what could possible go wrong?


I had such a lovely time.  Even had a magpie try to swoop me, even though, on that day, spring had not started to arrive.   But, darkness falls early at the start of spring, so, I figured I better turn around, that, and the old rail bridge that I had to cross (or cross a creek), was enough to convince me it was time to go home.  So, I reluctantly pointed my bike toward a homeward bound destination.  

here is wherethe rail path included crossing this bridge, even though these brave mates decided to do it, I decided it was time to turn around and go back...






or I might end up here!


When, a few minutes later, much to my dismay, the bike started riding really rough. What could it be? Damn, a flat tire! I calculated the distance in my head required to return the car. I then calculated the amount of time that it would take me to change a tire (based on the one time I have attempted it). decided it would be faster to walk. So, clip, clap, clip, clap down the gravel road in my silly bike shoes. Note to self: next time, remember to carry a back pack with proper walking shoes, so, should this occur again, I can wear sensible shoes. Wait, should this occur again, I should probably make sure I know how to change a tube!


As I approached the next town, I saw two boys walking toward me. They were really young lads, probably around 13. I asked them if they knew how to change a tire. They said no, but, I bet they did. Ah well, who could blame them, I am sure they had better things to do. Clip, clap, clip, clap…off I go, making my way as quickly as it is possible in the silly bike shoes. Along comes another set of lads, these older, probably 15-16. I posed the same question to them, they looked at each other and shrugged and one the said yeah, he’d help. I let out a relieved sigh, I just might make it to the car before dark after all!







It was at that point in time, that I realized that I have turned into my mother. My mother will ask anyone for help. She does not know a stranger. She is the type that would be in downtown Detroit, and walk straight up to a thug, dedicated out in gang colours, sporting all sorts of prison tats, including a snake slithering up his neck, and HATE written on his right hand fingers. She’d say: “Excuse me young man, my car won’t start. Could you please see if you can get it to start?”. And hand him the keys. And you know what? the dude will go over and, instead of taking off with the car, start it for her and then open the car door for her. She would respond with “thank you, young man”. And, upon returning home, would report to everyone that he was “such a nice young man”.

Ok, so, the circumstances aren’t QUITE the same, but, you get the picture. I am turning into my mother.

Well, as it turns out, my bike pump did not work on that type of tube.   One of the lads, ran all the way home to get his bike pump for me.   These were such good kids!   People bitch about the “kids today”, but, I tell you, I can say that I have never met a more well mannered, considerate kid these these two.   Long story short, his bike pump didn’t work either!   But, instead of going home, they escorted me to the gas station, where we were able to force in enough air for me to limp home.
What an adventure!   Stay tuned for the next adventure when I get another flat and this time make friends with a man with no voice…

however, there was an alternate route across the creek...

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