Biting Off More Than You Can Chew

It was a beautiful Pennsylvania Fall Weekend here and despite a cold, I was longing to ride my road bike.  Bella had her knee surgery Wednesday and she was recuperating, and on strict activity restriction.  So I spent the first part of the day running errands with her in her car seat, getting out for a few short walks.  I was tired from my cold, but still decided to go off on a long ride late in the day.  "What time will it get dark?" I asked my husband.  "Oh you should have light until 6:30, plenty of time," was the reply.  It's been a while since I took this route and I couldn't remember how long it took me before, but an hour seemed like enough time.  You can see where this is going again.

Hurry Home!

I started off my ride thinking that farms and biking don't mix, after a tractor blew hay and dirt in my eyes and left hay sticking to my chapstick for a couple miles.  After that, a field of damp hay waiting to be bailed gave me a sneezing attack.  Then I recalled a bumper sticker I saw that had made me laugh which read:  "No Farms, No Beer" and forgave the farmer, the tractor, and the hay.  As I pedaled along, it was such beautiful farm and countryside scenery that I easily lost track of time.  But I was slightly aware that the sun was gradually setting and picked up the pace.  These cows were so funny, they came running over to me like they had never seen a biker in spandex before.  I love this route because it takes me on some very familiar back roads where some of my high school friends used to live.  A large man in a tiny Prius drove by, and I figured out how the country could single handedly solve both the obesity epidemic and fossil fuel dependency... by creating a car that runs on the driver's body fat.  As I got back on the main road to go home, I noticed the sun was hovering just over the horizon and I had the feeling I wasn't going to make it.  I have picked up my husband at least a half a dozen times on his bike.  One time he got 2 flat tires and only had 1 tube, maybe he went farther than he intended or got lost, or ran out of fluids, or all of the above.  For the first time, I had to call him for a rescue!
The sun went down, it was getting darker and cars coming towards me had their lights on, not a good sign.  I relented and dialed the phone, he seemed excited that it was his turn to play support vehicle.  So we agreed on a meeting place and I turned around and rode fast to Royal Road.  We got there at the same time, and I had averaged over 14 mph and completed about 12 miles which was a decent ride.  I was saying to my husband that I must be considered a "real rider" now that he had to come and rescue me for a change.  Just then, my left clip got stuck!  I usually dismount to the left, and even though my right foot was out, I had already shifted my weight to the left.  I toppled over, crashing to the ground and making a noise like "waghghghgh"!  I'm sure some passers by got a good laugh, and we did too.  Yep I'm a real biker all right; after 40 you don't bounce as well.  But other than a sore ankle, I was fine.
Note to Self:  Get Dave the Bike Mechanic:  check my left pedal clip before next ride.