I Want to Ride My Bicycle

The entire  year I lived in Japan, I biked all over the place without a second thought. I had a free bike courtesy of the outgoing teacher, which I painted bright green and purple thanks to some 100 yen store spray paint. I would bike double digit miles most days, without a helmet, and with the knowledge that 3 of my acquaintances had been hit by cars while on bikes (none seriously injured). I biked on snow, on ice, and in rain. So, one would think that upon moving to Fort Collins and possessing a bike again, I would take to it like a fish to water.

Not so much.

Don't get me wrong, I still loved cycling, but I had a hard time adjusting to the bike culture here in America. Bobby and I did quite a lot of weekend biking last summer. We volunteered with a no-kill shelter, and every time we walked the dogs on the weekend we would bike there. We went on excursions for Mexican food in nearby towns with friends. Bobby rode his bike to work every day during spring and summer. And we would ride bikes to our Monday night yoga classes. I would bike to the gym on my own, as well, and I'd take friends out on the trails when they came to visit. But in general? I was very intimidated with cycling in America. In Japan, there were bikes everywhere. Mothers would be on a bike with a baby in front and a baby in back, no helmets in sight. It was a very common thing in the culture of the city in which I lived, and thus bicycles were something that drivers were used to accommodating. On top of that, in Japan, bicyclists used sidewalks. America, on the other hand, favors the bicycle lane approach. Let me tell you, there is a big difference between cycling on a wide sidewalk and cycling in a thin bicycle lane with cars whizzing past you going 50 miles an hour.

Another difference was that I had to get used to my new bike. It's a commuter bike, not a cruiser bike. When I first rode it, the wheels felt so incredibly thin and flimsy, as though every rock in my path would send me flying to the pavement. Eventually, with all the riding we did last summer and fall, I got used to it, but I was still timid when I went out on my own, and I would often avoid cycling and take my car when I could have taken my bike. Last winter, as we put away our bikes, I told myself that this summer I would be more confident on my bike, and bike more often. I just had to get over my feelings of awkwardness and my lack of confidence, and do it.

So that's what I did. A week or two after we got back from Texas, Bobby and I were set to meet up for lunch. It's 4 miles from our house, half of it on the bike trail, half of it on the street, and I have to cross traffic to go left twice. It was no big deal, and I felt incredibly lame for ever letting it bother me.

Bobby with delicious food and my sweet pink tire'd bike

Happy face

 Bobby was surprised I rode my bike instead of taking thee car. He knew that I was pretty much only comfortable with riding to and from the gym, or sometimes the grocery store. I seriously cannot believe that I let myself get such a mental block about it. How ridiculous.

This is part of the trail on the ride home that day. Since then I've been cycling all. over. the. place. I'm merging in traffic, I'm making left turns at lights, and you can get over it, car, because I have the right of way. I can't even remember what it felt  like to feel nervous at all. Yesterday, as an example of how much time I'm spending on my bike, I did 20 miles. I biked to the gym, to lunch with Bobby, to the grocery store, and back home. Then we biked to dinner, hit up two stores to run errands, and visited Sonic on the way home for free root beer floats. We left as it was getting dark, with our headlights and tail lights flashing. We were going at a meandering pace along the bike trail that feeds into our apartment complex. As we were traveling, we would ride through pockets of cool air, that felt like walking into a freezer. Sometimes the air would be warm on top, then cold on bottom, like swimming into a deep part of the lake on a hot day. the crickets were chirping, the sky was clear, and the moon was out. It was beautiful.

I think that's my favorite thing about riding my bicycle. I'm connected to the experience of getting somewhere. I feel the sun on my arms, I'm sweating a bit, I'm grateful for breezes. The smallest hills, unnoticeable in a car, are very noticeable on a bike. I notice the landscape more, since I'm in it and going slower. I'm manually adjusting to the slightest changes in the terrain as I work through my gears. Stop lights are not annoying, they're a break after that hill kicked my ass. If I need to make a left (bike lanes are to the far right, so one has to cross traffic to make lefts) and there is a lot of traffic, I can simply slow down in my bike lane, wait for  it to break up and pass to the left easily. Shortcuts are easy to take, and wrong turns are just occasion for a bit more exercise. As soon as I hit "publish" on this post, I'm going to the library and the grocery store, a 10 mile round trip that Bobby and I made a few weekends ago together, and one that I've made several times on my own since then. I am currently having a love affair with my bike and spring.

But don't worry, I won't turn into this guy...

5 Years Ago

I was sorting pictures (I cull those, too, periodically) and came upon these pics of a road trip my cousin Mel and I took back in late September '06. I got home from Japan on Sept 10th, and 3 weeks later I found myself visiting my mom in Brownwood. I was up late, on the phone with Mel, and she mentioned she was going to be road tripping from Ventura, CA, to SLC, UT, and then back down to Dallas. She was moving home, as was her brother, who lived in Utah and needed to be picked up along the way. I asked her when she was leaving. She said "day after tomorrow". I was severely depressed due to culture shock upon returning home, missing Japan and regretting not staying longer, wanting an adventure, unemployed, and I had five grand in the bank thanks to my end of contract bonus. So of course I said "I'm coming with you". The next day I drove 3 hours back up to Dallas, packed a bag, and got a ride to the airport. I bought my ticket at the counter, to use a mere 2 hours  later to fly out to California. It cost a not so mere $300 one way. Whatever. I needed out of there, fast.

A few blocks from Mel's house

Mel picked me up from the airport, we hung out with her friends and got dinner, and then we set out very late that night.

This is probably about what our vision was actually like upon hitting Sin City

 I may have thought I was obliterated on the Colorado-Texas road trip, but we were insane tired between Ventura and Las Vegas. We rolled in at around 2 a.m., and just for the sake of doing it we hit up a casino. We played a slot machine, drank some free orange juice, used their bathroom, and hit the road again.

 We were in a bad way a few hours later at the gas station...

 I really didn't want to get back in that car.

 We drove through the night until we hit the top corner of Arizona, when the sun started to come up.

 This was an entire sky, stereotypical "Arizona has the best sunrise, ever" kind of experience. We watched it until it faded away, and somehow dragged ourselves into Utah. Directly after crossing the state line, we pulled Mel's tiny Ford Focus off to the side of the road, snapped back the seats, and promptly slept  for 6 hours, with the car periodically rocking back and forth as 18 wheelers zoomed past. Still, it was safer than driving.

 I'd never been to Utah before, and since I was seriously dating a Mormon at the time I spent a lot of time on temple grounds. It was a few blocks from Jen's house (Mel's sister, remember Thanksgiving?). We were in SLC for about a week, and I went there almost every single day. I prayed a lot. I didn't hear anything that sounded anything like "Be a Mormon". We all know how that ended.

 We spent a lot of time hanging with Jen, just being stupid, all the girls together again. This was taken across the street from a bar we frequented. I'm supposed to be lamenting the impending birth of the child that will launch me into mommy van status (pure jokes, I love mommies and babies and mommies who drive their babies in mommy vans). The fact that it said "Kid Hauler" had to be ribbed on.

 And then it was time to leave. We packed up and headed south through the fall leaves.

Southern Utah, somewhere near Moab. I would go back there 3 years later with Bobby :)

 Colorado- I'd come back here with Bobby, too :)

 

Driving up to Four Corners Monument

 We're nerds.

 Big time.

 A bit of New Mexico, another state I'd return to and explore more with Bobby.

Finally we were back home in Texas. I think I ate my weight in those trashy chicken sandwiches at Burger King (no, not the "fancy" ones, I'm talking the craptastical creepsauce long oval shaped "chicken" sandwiches they have which are way cheaper than the other chicken sandwiches and have nothing but lettuce and mayo on top of a fried patty. Gross). I know both Mel and I were at insane transition periods in our life, and it was really awesome to be with someone who truly understood what it was like to pick up and leave everything, go out on your own, change in ways  you never thought possible... and then come  home and try and fit back into your old life. I can't believe it's been 5 years ago.

Mountain Top

I've been organizing my photos lately, going back to 2006 when I first purchased a digital camera and I was living in Japan. This was on top of Mt. Tateyama, about an hour from my home in Toyama. After talking about winter in the last post, I wanted to look through the pics I had of all of us girls on top of the mountain. I love this one because it very much looks like we're lounging on a beach, because of the way the frozen lake in front of us swoops down. Such a great day. Click on the picture to make it bigger to get a better look!