Allison's Wonderland

I know how to ride a bike.  I've been riding one all my life and was taught at a young age, just how this is accomplished.  So how is it I came to fall on my face three times today?  Let's start at the beginning shall we?

Now I know I still have a lot of Blogs to catch up on, Paris, being home, and my English home, but I had to write this one down.  I decided today to go to a place called Black Park which, after Google mapping, is only 3.8 miles away from my house.  3.8 miles really isn't much on a bike, but I seriously almost died about 3 different times on my ride there.  First of all I wasn't wearing a helmet and was leery about riding on the road as the roads here in the UK are pretty narrow.  They do have sidewalks, and I decided to ride on it in order to avoid colliding with a car.  Well I didn't realize how dangerous this was either, because on the side walk was grown up bushes that kept hitting me in the face and almost had me cycling in the road anyways.  I wobbled about 4 different times enough to almost knock me in the road.  After passing the cutest little cottage that was decked out for the Jubilee weekend, and a typical red phone booth, I had a huge hill to climb.  Huge hill plus no sidewalk, plus no helmet equals disaster.  My legs were burning so bad and I was out in the middle of the road going into oncoming traffic.  Can we say dangerous?  I'm not normally a person that thinks about death all the time, but as I saw those oncoming cars, I thought it was seriously the end of me.  So after making it up the huge incline, which more seasoned bikers might think it wasn't much of a hill at all, I decided to choose life and head back the way I came.  I will say, I want to attempt this ride again as Black Park is a beautiful place and was one of the places used in the filming of Harry Potter, and Snow White & the Huntsman.

That was the beginning of my biking woes.  Later in the evening I headed out at 7:40 in order to meet up with a bunch of other Au Pairs in the center of town.  After getting the lights on my bike all straightened out, as I was going to be biking a night, I left the house at 7:47.  Now from the house into town is about a twenty minute walk, and I was thinking twenty minute walk = 10 minute bike ride.  Well, that is, if you're not an idiot.  We live in the valley of two large hills, so I walked my bike up to the flat part.  That's where I attempted to get on.  Now I'm short.  I have been all my life.  When I took the bike out previously, it was fine as I was wearing athletic pants and sneakers.  When I tried this time it was a bit different as I was ready to go out for the evening and had jeans and my cowboy boots on.  I swung my leg over the side, missed the pedal and since I was too short for the bike and my seat was a little higher than I remembered I went crashing down to the ground.  That was fall number one.  I picked myself back up, looked around, hoping no one was watching, and walked a little farther on to see if I could find a flatter spot.  I made sure my right pedal was up so as once I climbed on I could immediately pedal.  Attempt number two went worse than the first.  As I swung my leg over, I entirely missed the pedal.  Pedaled air for maybe .5 seconds and crashed down on the sidewalk as a lovely family of four were driving by in their minivan.  Not only did they witness my embarrassing display, but as I fell to the ground I heard the loud nightmarish sound of material ripping.  That material would be my jeans.  Which, I'll admit, might have been a little bit too tight for bike riding, but nonetheless it was right in the butt.

At this point, I was extremely frustrated, embarrassed, sweaty, cranky, and wanted to kick the bike down the street and leave it there.  I finally calmed down and got myself together, thinking whatever I do I can not stop this bike on my ride into town.  Otherwise I'll fall again and it might be for a crowd of people this time instead of a nice little family in their car.  That's when my light, that I had strategically attached to the back of my bike decided to fly off.  My dilemma was, do I turn around and pick it up risking the embarrassment and hurt of falling again, or do I keep trucking along hoping it will be there on my ride home?  Since it wasn't my bike and it wasn't my light, I did the good samaritan thing and turned around & got it.  To my happiness, when I mounted the bike again, it went a bit smoother than my previous two attempts.

I was all high confidence once I reached the main road.  I even rode out onto the road in order to cross to a place known as "the commons".  I crossed the busy main road without stopping my bike and went full throttle as to make the curb.  Here in the UK they really don't have those nice ramp like things that ease you into the sidewalk.  It's just big blocks that you kind of have to hop over.  I was coming at it sideways.  I really thought I was going to make it.  Like I said, I was all high confidence, hit the curb full throttle . . . and fell flat on my hands and knees.  "Seriously?  SERIOUSLY!?!" I shouted, as I gained the attention of several cars driving by and a nice little English man on his bike.  He just looked and laughed at me like I was a perfect idiot.  Oh wait...I was.  I laughed it off, as I normally do when I feel awkward in situations, and started walking my bike through the commons.  I wasn't about to get back on that puppy.  That's when I checked the time and saw that it was 8:05.  I was supposed to be there at 8 and was a little over halfway there.  UGH...back on the bike I went, a little scared and afraid.  I made it to the hotel where we all were meeting, tired, bruised physically and ego WAY bruised and very sweaty.  As I parked my bike and locked it up, I gave it a good kick for good measure.  I think it got the better of me though as my butt will KILL tomorrow.  Oh well, at least I lived to tell about it. :)