I only learned how to ride a bike when I was thirteen years old. The streets near my home in the US
aren't real friendly to the inexperienced bicyclist and we had no sidewalk or flat places in our
yard where I could be taught.
At eighteen years of age I was starting to grow more experienced at bicycling, to the point of maybe
even thinking about getting a "good" bike. Then my bike was stolen. It was winter so I didn't get
around to buying a new bike or even think about it much.
Six months later I suffered a compound complex fracture of my right leg.
Suffice it to say, I wasn't going to be getting on a bike any time soon.
The summer that I was twenty years old I wobbled my way off down the lightly travelled flat street
near my boyfriend's house. I remember looking back to see him and our friend Matt watching me wobble
away. Looking at their proud smiles before they turned away I felt about six years old. I went
around the block and came back. I loved it! I even got to surprise (and get surprised by) a deer.
Once I came back, I got my boyfriend to go around the block with me. This was great!
I hurt so bad I couldn't walk the next day.
Scratch the bicycle plans for a while.
When I was twenty one I moved to Asia. As a non impact form of exercise and travel bicycling was far
more practical than the alternatives. Going places by taxi required that I know where I was going.
Going by bus required standing up. Standing is not comfortable since I broke my leg. So, in October
of 2002, I bought a cheap bike. I tried to get the cheapest bike in the store but they wouldn't let
me because it was "not good enough for a foreigner." In the end, the bike I bought was
unintentionally bargained down to being almost as cheap as the cheapest bike in the store.
With warm weather my trips on the bike grew longer. Then there was SARS. I still got paid but I had
no work for 6 weeks. My travel plans were dashed by not being allowed to leave the city and my trips
on the bike grew still longer. As boredom set in my bike trips reached unprecedented distances. I
now had a cyclocomputer and some days I went more than twenty kilometers.
Over the summer holidays my bike was stolen. This was a convenient excuse to get a nicer bicycle.
One weekend I did two trips of over 50 kilometers apiece. Then, my nice bike was first vandalized
and then stolen. Both incidents happened inside the guarded compound where I live and work but my
employers did nothing.
I was all prepped to buy yet another new bike. This time it was going to be the ugliest piece of
quality bike I could find. Those who saw the bike generally thought I was crazy. After all I am a
rich foreigner. I can afford to ride one of the beautiful flashy bikes that are popular among some
of the wealthier students. Why should I ride an ugly secondhand bike?
I've had that bike now for about a month. It has served me well. The first day I had it it was in
pretty sad shape. After a tune up which included replacing the wheels, some of the spokes, both
derailleurs, the brakes, the pedals, the front and back chainrings, and the chain it worked a lot
better. I learned about cadence and the mysteries of shifting gears.
The bicyclist still needed work I hadn't spent much time on a men's bike and learning how to lift my
leg over the bar without bruises or scrapes took time. The bike still needed work. The seat sloped
to the side and was down so low that the luggage rack poked me in the butt.
I got a new seat today. I also got a new seat post and had the seat mounted higher. It feels a bit
odd riding so high but my knees like it. I also had the bell remounted in such a way that I can use
both the bell and the gear shifters. Before, I had a choice between either being able to effectively
use the rear derailleur _or_ being able to effectively use the bell but not both. Unfortunately, the
new configuration puts the left hand brake rather far towards the center. Currently, I cannot brake
_and_ have my hand in the normal place on the handlebar at the same time. However, having a working
signalling device means I don't have to brake as suddenly as often.
I'm not yet sure what the solution for this will end up being...probably something ugly yet
effective, like the bicycle itself.
-M