Tuesday, August 16, 2011
I like to ride my bicycle
The homestead is a hiccup past a half mile from the new tiny casa so it is really easy to get to on foot or bike. The kicker is, there are hills of the deceiving kind. Flat enough to make you think you're smooth sailing but steep enough for you to realize it is time to downshift (and ignore the new ruddy color of your face as you huffity puff till you feel like yer lungs might explode).
My routine has been to wake up in the morning, have a little breakfast, wash the dishes and empty a box if I am able. I have also been trying to take pictures as I find little bits of happy just to keep me going in this weird in-between stage we're in. Then, I put on my bike helmet, grab a bag full of whatever it is I think I will be needing for the day, lock the door and settle onto the bike and get to pedaling.
The ride is simple save for THE HILL(S). One on the way out and one on the way back. I bike out the back driveway onto the street and turn right then right again to tackle THE HILL. The hill on the way out has been doable from the beginning. I usually have to shift down to my first gear and pedal like mad, hoping no one else except for myself is humming the wicked witch of the west's theme. By the time I get to the top of the hill, I have inched over into the oncoming lane because I am certain is makes for a shorter and therefore less steep ride. There are two stop signs for me to feel safe about but a blind turn without a stop on my right that almost resulted in me getting smooshed by a black BMW with a driver that doesn't believe in turn signals. I maneuver through the iffy intersection and coast DOWN the hill turning right and gliding down another wee hill, kinda like a roller coaster. If I am lucky, the work trucks are not blocking the road and I can take the shortest route to the homestead by simply continuing forward a smidge before another right turn to the street that turns into our old street. If the trucks are there, I will need to turn left and ride down a block before turning right then right again up our old street. This is one of those deceiving UPS. It only looks flat and smooth sailing but manages to kick me in the arse each time causing me to downshift and hum THE theme again. When I'm pedaling well and lazy-like, I switch to Pee-Wee's theme. Pee-Wee's theme makes me feel a lot less lame, thank you very much. Finally I am rewarded with an easy coast into the driveway and a good morning to whomever is at the homestead. My legs are a bit wobbly when I get off the bike but it's a good kind of wobbly.
When the mister rides in home from work, he grabs a couple of cookies then works on Rodney. We end up riding home in the dark with our blinkety blinking red tail lights and my headlamp on my handlebars. Mister will ride up THE HILL on the way back. I pedal as far as I can before admitting defeat and walking the bike up the rest of the way until I pass the iffy intersection and can coast all the way home to the new tiny casa. Riding in the dark is interesting. I appear to ride liek a drunk person, wobbling this way and that. It's also much cooler her on the central coast at night and the wind makes my eyes tear up and my nose run. I'm sure I'm one very attractive lobster-girl by the time I trip into the casa.
I may only be riding a mile a day but I'm sure it's doing something good for my body. My legs are killing me! Add that to my new PT gig at a thrift shop and well, who needs the gym, right?