Road Rash and Joy

I've already rhapsodized about the childlike bliss of rediscovering bike riding in a previous post, so I'll try to rein that in this time.

But now that the Hubby and I have had our bikes for a couple weeks, suffice it to say I love biking more with every ride, even though I did take a few (well, three to be exact) minor tumbles as I learned to adjust to my Electra Townie Commute 8D's step-through frame.

The Hubby got the Electra Loft 7i, which suits him uncannily well. If you'd like to know more about riding that bike, let me know and I'll have him write a guest post.

The Bike

As always, allow me to remind readers that I am not a "serious" cyclist, just a girl trying to go carless. I am, however, a conscientious consumer and chronic researcher, so long before we turned in our 2014 Nissan LEAF I had spent countless hours researching bikes that would be best for my urban commuter/errand-running/we're-serious-picnickers needs.

But first, a note on the Best Bike Shop Ever: Rage Cycles

As mentioned in a previous post, we knew we wanted to support a local bike shop when the time came to purchase. We got our bikes from the helpful and friendly folks down at Rage Cycles in Scottsdale, conveniently located a bike-ride's distance away from our house in Phoenix. 

We'd nosed around a few other shops, but something about the "living room" at Rage Cycles, complete with a rug and a dinosaur diorama in an old tube TV, just felt right. They're also the kind of shop that has branded merchandise like this coffee mug, currently my daily caffeine dispenser. In both aesthetic and attitude, Rage Cycles feels homey.  

More importantly, everyone we've ever come in contact with at this shop has been helpful, knowledgeable and warmly enthusiastic about us going carless. They let us take a couple Electras out for a brief ride on the canal before we were ready to buy, answered a ton of beginner questions from me and not-quite-beginner questions from the Hubby, all with an infinite amount of patience. 

They may not realize it, but everyone at Rage Cycles helped ease my trepidation about going carless quite a bit. It doesn't feel like we have to ride this learning curve alone knowing they're there, and so far that's proven to be true.

The day we picked up our bikes, which were built with no issues that I know of, Nathan was just as excited as we were. He made sure to let us tool around the parking lot a bit to ensure the seats were the right height and everything was in working order. 

My Bike, a.k.a. WheelieSchatz 

I finally settled on the Electra Townie Commute 8D for several reasons.

First, I liked that it had both a front and rear rack as well as fenders and lights. Having already fallen down the rather overwhelming rabbit hole of researching bike accessories, by the time I looked into this bike I was ready to just trust the Reputable Manufacturer Gods when it came to these parts.

Besides, I knew I could always replace these parts if I didn't like them. So far, it's fine, though I do put an LED headlamp on my Thousand helmet (bought from Huckberry at a very nice price) when riding at night for added light and safety.

Second, I'm comfortable admitting the I absolutely love the vintage cruiser styling (and was thrilled to discover I love it even more in person). Yeah, I know -- function over form, utility over aesthetic; I was raised in an old-country German household, after all, so that normally is my mindset when making major purchases.

But c'mon, look at her! She's sleek without being pretentious, casual but classy, vintage and modern....fine, it was love at first sight and I probably justified getting this bike. Fortunately, it's working out great so far.

Finally -- or more accurately initially -- the reason I began looking into the Townie in the first place was my physical therapist recommended the step-through, flat foot design while treating a minor calf injury I got prior to going carless. That means the pedals are kind of in front of the seat, as opposed to right under them (I think, or something like that).

It's comfortable, certainly, but absolutely took some getting used to.

Road Rash (and bruised pride) 

When I was a kid, I learned to get on to my bike by putting my left, or outside leg, on a pedal, pushing forward and then swinging my right leg over the back while the bike was rolling. 

With my bike's step-through frame, not to mention the long and large back rack, I can't do that. To be honest, the bike is probably a smidgeon to tall for me (I'm 5'4", with short, stubby legs and arms; basically, T-rex appendages).

Part of the reason for the step-through frame (according to Electra's marketing materials anyway) is that you can conveniently keep your feet flat on the ground when stopped.

Unfortunately, that doesn't really work for me. My legs are too short to actually be flat when stopped; I have to get off the saddle or, alternatively, learn how to stand en pointe for the duration of a red light. But if I lower the saddle any more than I already have I'm practically kneeing myself in the boobs when I pedal.

So I've opted to just lean when possible at crosswalks and/or walk my bike across the street and parking lots. Which I should probably be doing anyway for safety and whatnot.

Still, there's been a few minor tumbles, but my pride was hurt more than anything else (including, thank goodness, the bike!).

The over-lean fall

The first fall was really more of a slow over lean into a patch of xeriscape outside my eye doctor's office where I had ridden to pick up my contacts. At the last moment, I decided to try for the handicapped access ramp leading to the sidewalk in front of the office and couldn't quite make the turn, which was a very short, narrow switchback. So, over I went, right into rocks and some pokey plants. 

I was more concerned about the bike than anything else, so my arm and knee took the brunt of it, though my right brake has a few minor scratches battle scars now. I ended up with an impressive bruise on my knee during the next couple of days, too.

(Lesson: Figure out if you're going to turn onto an access ramp well before attempting to do so. 

Sub-lesson: Hand sanitizer is an effective -- but excruciating -- way to prevent cuts and abrasions from getting infected.)

The Basket Imbalance Fall

The second -- and third -- falls were far more frustrating and embarrassing because it was partly due to me attempting to jury-rig a basket to my front rack. With an actual basket or milk crate, this may have worked, but I was using a collapsible basket. The heavy cans of soup I put into this basket, which was fine when empty, caused the basket to slide on the bungee cord and, while not fall off the rack (partial credit there, I suppose) throw my bike off balance and cause it to tip over.  

(Lesson: Use the right equipment for the thing you're doing.)

The other reason (this is embarrassing but I promised radical honesty so that's what you're going to get) is that I hadn't really learned to get on to my bike properly. 

(Lesson: Learn to properly mount and dismount your bike. This seems obvious, I know, but here we are.)

Basically, I didn't get enough momentum to stay upright so when the basket and groceries slid to the side of the rack, the bike tipped over and I went with it...right into some oleanders planted along a guardrail in front of a shop sidewalk ramp. Naturally, this happened near one of the many coffee shops I frequent and in front of two Beautiful People, who were also Kind People, and who immediately offered to help me. I said no, and walked my bike along the sidewalk to try again. 

And fell again. This time the Beautiful And Kind People insisted on helping over my protestations and re-bound the basket to the bike. I was too embarrassed to get back on my bike but didn't walk to home pushing it either because my other knee had clearly lost its fight with the bushes and their rock bed. But it still fared better than my still-healing other knee, which now also sported a few small cuts. 

At this point, it was dark, late, and I was feeling very low. Even worse, it was getting cold, and my cold threshold is very low (I am the girl who wears a sweater in 70 degrees).

It hadn't been a great day to begin with and I felt like a completely incompetent moron who literally couldn't even ride a bike. 

I'd like to say I did something feminist-awesome at this point, but the truth is I called my husband, who offered to come get me on his bike, let me ride his bike home, and then take my bike and the groceries home.

A sweet offer, but actually just what my pride needed to rally. I adamantly refused. I don't know why but the thought that someone else -- even my husband -- would have to ride my bike home was galling on a visceral level. It made me strangely indignant.

Determined to, for once, be an actually successful adult (and self-rescuing princess to boot), I walked my bike to the section of the Old Cross Cut Canal Park that would take me home.

It was an actual bike path well away from traffic and there was grass on either side so I figured it was as good a place to repeatedly fall as any. I also had a newfound appreciation for the softness of grass.

My knees, ever supportive, made sure I knew choosing not to ride the bike would mean a very, very long walk so yelling "FREEDOM!!!!" at the top of my lungs I grabbed the handlebars and once again tried to finagle my short limbs over the large frame. 

And I did. My left leg stayed on its pedal and I kind of hop-swung my right leg over the bike. The second my right foot made contact with its pedal I pushed like I was in a marathon and the next thing I knew was pedaling. Miraculously, the bike stayed upright and though the groceries slid treacherously in the basket they did not make the basket (and thus the bike) tip. 

I managed to ride all the way home, even though there was a worrying sound coming from the front wheel and my seat had slid a bit crooked. The bell's paint had scratched off battle scars of its own now. My knees hurt, but I loved riding my bike, even then, and I wasn't going give it up because of my chronic, lifelong clumsiness.

Back to basics 

Fortunately, even self-rescuing princesses sometimes get some help. My husband was getting ready to get on his bike and come get me when I pulled up the driveway (yes, even though I told him not to) and I told him my dilemma: I loved my bike but couldn't actually get on it. 

My husband bikes to work and then works out before going to work after that, which means he gets up at some ungodly hour I refuse to acknowledge.

It was 10:30 p.m. when we met on the driveway but he still took me to a nearby parking lot and spent a good hour watching me get on and off my bike, figuring out a way that worked for my stubby legs and making sure I could do it successfully. (I'll expand on The Process in another post). The next morning, he rode my bike to Rage where Tobias straightened the rack and tightened a few things and soon WheelieSchatz was good as new.

I don't know where this puts me as a raging liberal feminist, but I sure am grateful for the Hubby and his help.

Since then, there have been no more falls and my confidence in mounting and dismounting has skyrocketed. Every time I get on my bike and stay upright I feel like I've achieved some athletic milestone.

Joy

As happy as I am to have mastered this fundamental skill, the truth is I don't think it matters how many times I fall. The fun of riding my bike outweighs the bumps and bruises from my (fortunately minor thus far) falls. 

I'm still learning a few things, but those will have to wait for the next post. For now, it's time to ride my bike home.