Wednesday, May 31, 2017

Fell into a lamppost

There was construction by the side of the bike path and the now detoured path turned from level tar to sloped, rugged grass. Good for pedestrians and two-wheeled bikes; bad for three wheels. 

I tried to keep on the right side of the cones but the trike had other ideas and down the slope I went. I was tipping as I came close to the lamppost and me and the BYB fell into it. I was mashed up against the new metal pole and spent a while pushing myself and the trike away from said pole to then throttle onto the bike path—cones be damned. 

There was a footpath just past the end of the detour so I committed to taking that way on the way back to avoid the construction. It was a monster of a hill, a heart pounder, and an extreme effort on a full stomach. As irony would have it I couldn't found a legit path back and had to rattle across cross country to re-intersect the way home.

Riding into the lamppost was embarrassing—it happened in front of manly men doing manly things; something no one has ever accused me of being or doing. But I'm comfortable in my body and the mere fact I was outside doing exercise was a miracle in itself. So as I tooled off the embarrassment fled to be replaced with musing of how if the post had not been there I would have tipped over. 

The BYB; now comes with minor risk of collision with industrial illumination.

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