Memory Mon...er Tuesday-Why I Don't Much Ride Bicycles.

Hmmmm. Busy weekend. I'm still acclamating myself to homeschooling and we blessed RP this weekend, had fabulous family out for the event and I was hopped up on Benedryl for half the weekend so I missed my post yesterday.

BUT I promised to explain why I don't ride bicycles very often.

As kids my brothers and I loved dogs...probably a little too much. So much so that several of them bolted at the first chance of freedom (an opened door, an unlocked gate)

Such as was the situation when I found myself as a 10 year old girls, riding my mom's bike around the neighborhood screaming myself hoarse for our chihuahua named Chokey. I couldn't have been taller than 4 foot 10 but insisted upon riding my mother's very tall bike because mine had a flat.

I had to stand in order to pump the pedals. I didn't even consider stopping. After riding, sobbing and wailing throughout the subdivision, loud enough for every single neighbor to hear that we had lost our dog and his name was Chokey and he had just been diagnosed with Heartworms, I reached what we affectionately called 'Suicide Hill'.

My brothers often rode down that hill with as much speed as possible, shouting something like 'REMEMBER THE ALAMO' or 'I'M THE KING OF THE WORLD!' or other such statement of profound bravery. I was always struck with terror and would walk whatever wheels I had down it.

Not this time. I needed to rescue Chokey. I backed up and cautiously gave myself a running start to gain enough momentum to hop onto the bike. It was about half way through the hill, when I reached what felt, to a 10 year old girl, like Mach 10 that I thought about stopping.

Now the wailing wasn't for Chokey. Not for the Alamo. Not even for the world. It was for the stark realization that I was about to die...or atleast be seriously maimed.

I desperately looked for a way to stop. I thought to myself, "A fire hydrant? No. Garbage cans? No... Aha!! There's a big empty field at the bottom of the hill with a huge rock. I can just run my bike into that. Surely, that will stop my bike!"

I soon reached the bottom and veered off the road. My screams became bumpy hiccups as the bike carrened through the grass...but it worked. My bike stopped. I didn't. I flew forward. Amazingly, I've still been able to birth 4 children.

***
A few years later.

I had grown taller and the bikes I rode shrunk. My friend Heather and I were taking a leisurely ride through our little town one afternoon. After a while, we noticed about a dozen or so bikes parked side by side by the park and a gaggle of our friends together. We decided to join them.

Only, I still didn't know how to stop. I swerved back and forth, trying to gain control of my bike and ended up crashing into Heather, which made her fall off her bike. Then, over compensating, I swerved into the other parked bikes. Just like a domino effect, every bike in turn, crashed to the ground.

I'm lucky my friends weren't big, hairy bikers with Harleys. In addition to bloody knees and elbows, I'm pretty sure I would have walked home funny with the mother of all atomic wedgey.


***
About the last time I seriously rode a bike was a week later. Same place, different people. This time a bunch of guy friends and classmates gathered for a game of basketball. One of them, Scott, had invited me to a party. I had been stumped on what to give a guy for his birthday. Seeing him there felt like the perfect opportunity to ask. Certainly, it was way more important than a basketball game, right?

Me: "Oh, Hi, Scott! How are you?! Thanks for the invite to your party. What do you want for your birthday?"

Scott: "Oh Hey. Um. I don't know. Just come. It'll be fun!"

Me: "Me? Bring nothing? I can't do that! I.....

C-O-O-O-O-O-N-N-N-N-G-G-G-G-G!

It was about that time when I realized I wasn't looking where I was going and happened to be in the path of a very large, uncompromising lamp post.

The next thing I knew, I was laying on my back and looking up at a circle of guys who, once they knew I hadn't passed out, were trying really hard not to laugh.

Have you ever seen 'Wayne's World'? You know, the part where his ex-girlfriend is waving at him like an idiot, not watching where she's going and crashes into a parked car?

Yeah. It was pretty much like that.

15 years later, my bike riding skills have not gotten much better. But at least I no longer steer towards inanimate, immovable objects when I'm trying to stop.

It's a wonder I was ever allowed to get my driver's license.