Bike Trip

Bike Trip: 1st Crash!

Being as clumsy as I am, I was the one who crashed on the bike trip. Three times. I have a tendency to day dream. A lot. I love day dreaming. It is almost better than night dreaming, or they are so different you can’t really compare them. It is like comparing the Harry Potter books and the Harry Potter movies, though the plots are along the same lines, there are so many differences it is silly to compare them. Comparison only bring on anger and disappointment. Isn’t everyone and their mother always telling us not to compare ourselves to other people? Don’t we pretend to take that advice? Well we should do it now. Day dreams and night dreams are different.

Sorry for the deviation. Anywho. Back on track. The point is, like that little tangent, my mind often wonders off. While biking I have proved that this can be dangerous. Each time I crashed I cannot tell you exactly what I was thinking about, but I can tell you I was not concentrating on the road. (Unfortunately I have caught myself doing the same thing while driving. This is something I MUST work on). Anyway, this is the chronicle of the first crash. It is the smallest of the three accidents and it happened within the first week of the trip. I had naively hoped that with 4,000 miles let to ride I had gotten my crash out-of-the-way. No such luck.

This post was dated June 27, 2011:

Yes we all know I am not the most graceful of people. So need it be surprising that I was the one to fall off their bike first? No, I think not. First let me say that I am fine. I have some pretty cool bruises on my lower left leg and I am missing a little skin from my right arm–just a little.

It all started with a hill, an exceeded speed limit (of the b.o.b. trailer), and some rail road tracks, which all equals a recipe for a disaster. As it turns out the company who manufactures the trailers knows what they are talking about when they tell you not to exceed 25 mph. I lost control around 29, which I know some of you probably didn’t want to know (sorry mom). Anyway, all my gear is fine for the most part. A little more duct tape has been added to the trailer bag, my rear axle has been replaced, and my shifters bent back into place. I was pretty darn lucky, though I am beginning to suspect that by the end of this trip my trailer bag will be more duct tape than anything else. 

Ivan had been behind me; I can’t say for sure what his experience of the whole thing was, but he helped me get my bike out of the road and got me the first aid kit so I could bandage my arm. He told me later that he had stopped and watched the whole thing, thinking to himself that he could go and help me. “But you were already moving,” he said. “Even on the ground you were so independent.”

Anyway I am currently in a small town in Virginia called Mineral. We are camped out at the fire station, and I am watching the most beautiful sunset. It is unbelievable.

Have a great night everyone.

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