Who has a better husband than this: knowing that my bicycling skills are, to put it kindly, rustic, yet knowing that I would really like to join my fellow islanders in tooling around on an "island cruiser" bike, mine went out and not only bought me the most adorable Tillie-green machine, but also bought a pair of adult-sized training wheels (not easily found) and installed them.
Here's the backstory: growing up in a working class family, I had a bike, but it was of the "cruiser" variety, which is to say, it was just a stop-and-go bike with no gears. In fact, I think I was in college before I was even dimly aware of the existence of bicycles with gears. Those were for the rich kids. And since I also very early on in life developed quite slug-like habits, preferring to lie rather than sit, sit rather than stand, stand rather than walk, and walk rather than run, I didn't really ride my bike very much anyway. And my parents really tried hard to propel my butt outdoors, and strongly encouraged me to ride my bike, but largely to no avail.
But here in Seabrook, everybody rides bikes everywhere. The terrain is very flat, and on the island the maximum speed limit is around 25 mph, and the broad streets are in excellent shape, so it's sort of an ideal situation for bikers. Lots of people bike up to the local grocery store, buy a few things, and tool home to make dinner - I like thinking of that as a sort of French way of doing the marketing. I like the environmentally friendly nature of biking around, too. And the most hardcore Seabrookers bike to the gym, work out, and bike back home - I'd like to be one of them. But a couple of years back, while vacationing on Kiawah (where everyone also rides bikes everywhere) I tried to hop on an island cruiser and nearly cracked my head open; so I'm scared. (*Note: I didn't actually come close to cracking my head open; I just felt like I was going to do so at any moment.)
Knowing that I want to better myself by re-learning to ride a bike, my awesomely fantastic husband scoured the internet and found adult-sized training wheels. (Your local bike shop is not likely to have them, for those of you who are as bike-challenged as I am.) And he and the dog installed the wheels on the bike last night while watching the football playoffs.
(She contributed encouragement by wagging her tail, as you can see in the photo.)
Today, when the going got tough during the Ravens game, and my nerves were shattered, I pulled the bike out of the garage and, like a second grader, rode shakily around in the driveway. Luckily for me, the neighbors who live across the street and would otherwise have had a great view of that comedy show, are not in residence at the moment. I had fear of looking like Arte Johnson from Laugh-In and just pitching over sideways while trying to ride, but my training wheels held me up. Of course, the adult-sized training wheels stick out so far on the sides that my bike will essentially take up the entire width of the sidewalks, but I don't care - hopefully I'll get my confidence going in pretty short order and will be able to take the wheels off soon. (The wheels also realign the bike in such a way that even if I put the kickstand down, it doesn't touch the ground!)
I've already planned to tell people "I have a head injury" if anyone looks askance at me on my comical bike, but people here are pretty (outwardly) nice, so I'm not expecting many questions. (Maybe some local gossip, but not many direct questions.) The husband also bought a very awesome wicker basket that can actually be removed from the handlebars and taken inside for shopping; just call me Miss Gulch from The Wizard of Oz! I have to start practicing saying "And yer little dog, too!"
But here in Seabrook, everybody rides bikes everywhere. The terrain is very flat, and on the island the maximum speed limit is around 25 mph, and the broad streets are in excellent shape, so it's sort of an ideal situation for bikers. Lots of people bike up to the local grocery store, buy a few things, and tool home to make dinner - I like thinking of that as a sort of French way of doing the marketing. I like the environmentally friendly nature of biking around, too. And the most hardcore Seabrookers bike to the gym, work out, and bike back home - I'd like to be one of them. But a couple of years back, while vacationing on Kiawah (where everyone also rides bikes everywhere) I tried to hop on an island cruiser and nearly cracked my head open; so I'm scared. (*Note: I didn't actually come close to cracking my head open; I just felt like I was going to do so at any moment.)
Knowing that I want to better myself by re-learning to ride a bike, my awesomely fantastic husband scoured the internet and found adult-sized training wheels. (Your local bike shop is not likely to have them, for those of you who are as bike-challenged as I am.) And he and the dog installed the wheels on the bike last night while watching the football playoffs.
(She contributed encouragement by wagging her tail, as you can see in the photo.)
Today, when the going got tough during the Ravens game, and my nerves were shattered, I pulled the bike out of the garage and, like a second grader, rode shakily around in the driveway. Luckily for me, the neighbors who live across the street and would otherwise have had a great view of that comedy show, are not in residence at the moment. I had fear of looking like Arte Johnson from Laugh-In and just pitching over sideways while trying to ride, but my training wheels held me up. Of course, the adult-sized training wheels stick out so far on the sides that my bike will essentially take up the entire width of the sidewalks, but I don't care - hopefully I'll get my confidence going in pretty short order and will be able to take the wheels off soon. (The wheels also realign the bike in such a way that even if I put the kickstand down, it doesn't touch the ground!)
I've already planned to tell people "I have a head injury" if anyone looks askance at me on my comical bike, but people here are pretty (outwardly) nice, so I'm not expecting many questions. (Maybe some local gossip, but not many direct questions.) The husband also bought a very awesome wicker basket that can actually be removed from the handlebars and taken inside for shopping; just call me Miss Gulch from The Wizard of Oz! I have to start practicing saying "And yer little dog, too!"
