I went biking yesterday. It was not a stroll, nor lolligagging. I had some frustrations going on and needed to take it out on my legs and lungs. I am pretty effective at doing that. It was 93 degrees, and dry. I set the ground on fire riding the speed of light. Ok, I probably just warmed it up a bit. Thi trail goes up for about 6 miles, then you turn around and come down. Down is not easier then up. By the time I got to the top, I had succeeded in my goal and was all mellow. Hikers and other bikers actually stopped to ask me questions, and I answered in sentances rather than grunts. I was on a spiritual upswing.
I rode down and only crashed one time. It was into a prickly bush, but no one saw it so I am pretending it didn’t happen. As I reached the bottom and the trail flattens out, I noticed 2 boys with a bike upside down. I asked if they were OK, but didn’t understand their answer. I stopped and looked at the bike. the chain was stuck between the frame and the gears–CHAIN SUCK! I stopped to fix it for them and got to work.
As I did, the 7 year old began to talk. Now this kid was serious. He had orange lenses on his Oakley sunglasses. He had elbow pads and knee pads. I cant be sure, but in my memory the bike changed into the Rodger DeCoster bike I always wanted as a kid. He began telling the story of his crash that resulted in the chain suckage. I responded with similar stories and asked if he had any ‘red badges of courage.’ His slightly older brother answered, “He means blood.” I didn’t but thought it was funny and so said nothing. He hung his head and said, “No.” Then brightened a little as I said, “Yeah me either, just scratches.” He then showed my his road rash.
I grinned much more at the thought: “This kid will make it just fine,” then at the feeling when the chain gave way and his bike was ready to ride again.