Second Ride

Later I decided to risk the threatening rain clouds and make one more trip to reinforce my new skills. The hill from my cul de sac had subsided slightly, and looked as if it was settling at around a 45% incline, so this time (aware that others might see if I were to get off my bike in order to go down the hill) I stayed on and testing my ability to find the fine line between going slowly enough to cope with my fear of the hill and the T junction at its foot and fast enough not to fall off, I gritted my teeth and got to the cycle track in a much faster time thn I had done earlier that day.

I hadn't gone far before the rain started again, but I had a waterproof jacket and as I felt I was making headway in understandng the gears I ploughed on.

And passed someone going in the same direction as me!

I was sure they were impressed with my Olympian cyclist skills as I left them behind and rode on.

Now I faced a hill with a gentle slope and needed to make a decision. If I went down it, I'd have to get back up it. But I was confident (and besides if I'd turned back, that person I'd passed would have known I'd just turned round in the middle of nowhere!) so I ploughed on.

Then it really started to rain. However, on this trip I'd thus far managed to avoid all banks and bushes so, determined not be a fair-weather cyclist, I kept going for another few minutes. Unfortunately I hadn't quite reckoned for the combination of condensation from my body heat and the heavy rain on my specs, so soon had to turn back as it was becoming impossible to see a yard in front of my face!!!

Another small victory on this ride: I not only made it back up the slope - but as I got to the crown there were two - count them, two, not just one, but two... and side by side, not Indian file, but abreast - people walking towards me. I calmly commented about the atrocious weather and rode on past them!

Sadly, given my visibility-in-the-rain issues, and the determination of the sky to spend the rest of the day doing its best power shower impression, that was the end of the day's activities.

The Floods Subside

I awoke with a start. My first thoughts went to my shiny unused bike, which had obviously woken me by calling to me from downstairs (I didn't have the heart to abandon it unridden to the garage whilst it was still in mint condition.)

Trying to focus through sleep filled eyes, I opened the curtains a chink and peered out. It looked as if the rain had stopped for the time being. It was a little hard to tell though, still being dark. It was only 5.05am after all.

Still, I had waited long enough, so 10 minutes later, I quietly opened my door and wheeled my bike out into the waiting world.

Now the fun really started. I had no idea what this bike was going to handle like and it had been a couple of months since I had last wobbled about on a borrowed bike seventeen years after first learning to ride. I decided the best approach would be to ride it quietly up and down the (level) street for a while, as to leave the cul de sac in which I live meant going down a hill with a 40% gradient.

I clambered on, took a deep breath, and pushed off. After a few wild wobbles the bike set off down the street. I swear I had nothing to do with it. Just before I reached the wall of bushes at the end of the street I remembered the brakes, and narrowly avoided becoming part of the shrubbery. Instead, I discovered that the brakes were more powerful than those I'd used previously and almost lurched myself over the handlebars.

Undaunted, I turned the bike and set off back up the street. This time I remembered the brakes before I got to the end of the street and the left turn which would take me down that hill and from there, within a hundred yards or so, onto a cycle/pedetrian trail where there would at least be no hazard caused by motor vehicles (parked or moving). So full of confidence because I hadn't fallen off (threatened dive bombs because of sudden deceleration didn't count), I turned the corner and faced the hill.

Something strange had happened in the night. A landscaper had obviously been at work. Instead of that 40% gradient I mentioned, I swear there was now an 80% one instead. So I did what any sane, world-weary, forty something woman would do.

I dismounted and wheeled the bike down the hill. What a wimp! However, this strategy ensured that I reached the cycle track in one piece, and still able to enjoy my new possession.

Pleased that I could now push off without having to find a higher hump of grass or a kerb on which to rest my foot as I did so, I set off up the deserted track. It was now about 5.30am and I soon discovered another problem. I needed to try to get to grips with the gears - but it was too dark for me to see the markings on them, and I couldn't remember which way downshifted and which way upshifted through the gears. My cunning ruse of removing my front light and using it to see the markings only worked briefly, because as son as I set off again, I got so concerned with balancing that I instantly forgot! The next few minutes resulted in much chain clicking, and feet constantly slipping off from the pedals as the bike veered uncontrolled - but I never fell off!

Gradually dawn broke, and I had a clearer view. In this time I'd only seen one other person - a man walking his dog. I'd reverted to the cunning plan mentioned earlier of pretending to phone someone until he disappeared into the distance. Now that it was lighter, I was able to focus more on following a straight line down the path, but I found I'd only been fooling myself about the gears. Even though I could now see the markings, I still had problems selecting the right one.

Small victories, however... I hadn't fallen off, and, using the 'both knees clutched tight to the bikeframe and freewheel' method I'd developed previously, I found I was still able to remove a hand briefly from the handlebar. I even practised removing first one hand, then replacing that and removing the other.

I was going really well with the steering and control, then the top of a tree jumped into my path. It had originally stood on the bank but had been felled or fallen so that the crown half obscured the pathway. I steered to avoid it, overcompensated and plunged through the grass on the other side of the track. Ah well, missing half the track wasn't as bad as missing the entire track.

By now my wrists were sore (from the sheer terror with which I was gripping the handlebars, rather than from a need to adjust my sitting position, I am certain). Remarkably, thanks to the new gel saddle fitted the evening before my own personal saddle wasn't suffering too badly at all compared to my recall of how things had been in the past. (Not brilliantly, but I'm a woman, so can take pain without grumbling!), but the rain had started falling again, breakfast was calling and I was most definitely puffing and panting, so, pleased with my initial efforts, and still very much in one piece, I headed home, pushing the bike up the final hill, which had now developed into an 85% incline.

British Summer

What is with this weather? Yesterday (the day after the delivery) I wondered if I should have invested in an ark instead of a bike... or at the very least, a narrowboat. It would have been useful to negotiate the river flowing past the front of my property where the road used to be.

As the day wore on I faced the inevitable. With sadness, I recognised that this was going to be another rode free day. So once again, I did what any sane, world-weary, forty something woman would do.

I shopped.

Well, I needed a whole load of stuff for my new life as a biker. Sensibly a puncture repair kit, pump and multi-tool were the first things I purchased.

One day, maybe someone will explain what I do with it.

It might even happen before it's too late.

The Arrival

Once I heard the delivery man type insistent knock on the door plus ring on the doorbell, I just knew...

Sure enough, there stood a very bedraggled rain-soaked gentleman with an equally bedraggled rain soaked large box. Whooooooooooooooo!

Unfortunately, what with the aforementioned lashing rain and wind, coupled with the fact that the bike didn't yet have mudguards (the front one needed a little 'adapting' so my nearest and dearest had taken it off to work to persuade it to fit!) a ride (especially a first nervous one) would probably not have been the best of experiences. So I did what any sane, world-weary, forty something woman would do.

I sat it in pride of place in my living room and looked at it.

5 minutes later, there was another knock on the door. This time it was the gasman, wanting to read the meter... which happens to be in a cupboard in the corner of the living room. I'm not quite sure what he made of the focal point of my living room decor. I was most diappointed that he didn't stop to admire it - or even comment upon its existence. I considered forcing his hand on this error of judgement on his part by pushing it into his path as he was leaving, but didn't want to risk the bike making contact with anything which might cause it to lose its shine, even temporarily.

Sadly heavy rain persisted all evening... the ground was not dry enough for the still-one-mudguard-short wheels not to throw crap in a straight line up and down my body.

Piece By Piece

The postie has just called and I am now the proud owner of a gel saddle and a set of mudguards!

I thought I'd take things easy, and do one little bit at a time. A girl can't rush into these things (especially an old girl).

Actually, I'm expecting my bike later today or, at the latest, tomorrow. This is great news as I have the next fortnight off work. I was up at 6am polishing the front gate and laying the red carpet in preparation!

Shame it hasn't stopped raining since...

Ups and Downs

So here I stand. Ready to do battle with my own innate sense of imbalance and my lack of any physical ability whatsoever.

Tomorrow, I get a bike of my own, and will be adding regular cycling to the "get fitter" exercise routine I started as a New Year resolution back in January. My first "big" goal is to be able to cycle to work one day. It's not far, and I could probably do the outward journey in a short time frame... but the return is something else, because it's uphill all the way - and although my "get fitter" routine has had an impact of a 2 stone weight loss, I have a long way to go yet before I'm more than fit to drop! Still, I'm going to get fit if it kills me!

Now when I say "uphill"... we're talking big hills. In fact, to be more precise, we're talking mountains. I live in the South Wales (UK) valleys. I live near the top of a mountain. "Work" is located on the valley floor. Gettting there, I could take my feet off the pedals, wear out the brakes in record quick time, and fly down (I've already got the knack of praying for my life whilst hurtling down a mountainside, trying to find the fine line between going slowly enough to maintain control, and fast enough to keep my balance.) Coming back, I suspect might take me half the night.

Back on the (Cycle) Path

The adventure (oh yes, what fun it was careering along a path, threatening to nose-dive into bushes any second) all took place over a 3 week period. By then I was back to the skill level I got to when I was 30, and here's where I am the day I started this Blog...

I can balance (sort of, in a wobbly "Oh my God, she's about to fall over in front of me!" kind of way), pedal, steer (but not do a U-turn or make any indication that I'm turning) and brake (I've had a lot of braking rehearsal!)

I've yet to ride past anyone, because of the very real prospect of riding straight into them instead! If I meet anyone coming in the other direction on my early morning travels up and down the nearby cycle path, I stop and pretend that I'm making a mobile phone call until they are past me. If it looks as if I'm about to overtake someone walking in the same direction, I just turn around and go the other way. (Cunning plans, eh?)

Then a breakthrough achievement: I actually managed to briefly take one hand off the handlebar to push my specs back up my nose, before they fell off. Up until then I'd had to stop (frequently) to perform this task as I haven't developed the desired length and dexterity of the tongue which would allow me to push my glasses up in this alternative manner!

I feel superhuman! Why, if I carry on like this, I might actually be able to signal my intention to other road users in a few years time.

Lost in The Wilderness

Unfortunately, before I could fully develop my basic skills, the Winter set in and I lost the impetus, and gradually became more worried about getting back on a bike.

Thus followed my 17 year "wilderness period" between learning to balance, pedal and steer at 30, and getting back on a bike at 47 years old, following a new wave of determination.

Of course, by now, I was basically starting from scratch on a bike again - but this time had the pleasure of being more overweight and unfit to begin with!

First Wobbles

So how did I go about achieving this new found ambition?

I borrowed an old pushbike (with 3 gears) and when I did eventually get on a bike for the first time in my life (that is, to do anything other than sit astride it and pose, in the manner of teenage girls preying on a young man, and out to impress, even if it necessitated deceit), it was at 5.30 or so in the morning.

I'm not really a great "morning" person, but the early starts were worth it as it not only gave me the quiet tracks on which to practice, but it meant I was pretty safe from onlookers. One of the first obstacles I faced was my own self-consciousness... here I was, quite a large mature lady... wibbling around on a bike which looked as if it might actually give up the ghost before I did (and that's saying something!) I would never have got on with anyone watching - even those nearest and dearest to me who knew the challenge I was facing.

I wasn't sure how to go about things, but it seems that I got something right, judging by advice I've read since. I taught myself first to balance, by ignoring the pedals. I just spent several sessions wobbling down a lane, then back up again. Eventually I was able to push off from a hump on the path (I couldn't do it from level ground) and pedal.

The Beginning Rumblings

I have a confession...
I never learned to ride a bike as a child. I had a tricycle when I was a toddler, but when I outgrew it, it never even occured to me to request a bike because, young as I was, I recognised my own wimpishness in learning to do things which might actually lead to me getting a little roughed up when I fell off (as I recognised I inevitably would).

The upshot was I went through my childhood, teens and early adulthood feeling envious of those who could ride, but never getting on a bike myself. As I got older, and my waistline spread, the envy lessened, especially once I got a car. But I never quite lost it completely.So I reached my milestone 30th birthday, and although it wasn't quite the crisis some people make of such milestones, I had this mad notion that I needed to challenge myself by learning a new skill and decided it was time to do what my young nieces could do without any problem at all - ride a bike.