Good Vibrations (I'm Talking 'Bout)

This post is dedicated to my bike.

Ahhhh, my bike, I love it so. I don't ride it so much these days as class runs after dark and I don't bike after dark (or walk--don't worry mom, I wheedle rides home out of classmates).

I bought my bike for sixty clams at the bike store on Vermont. I saw it one day out front, only ten dollars more than the crappy-looking bike next to it. Back when I was eight and my mom decided we could get a cat, we went to the SPCA and met a nice cat and left and my mom said if he was still there the next day, we'd get him. I remember being utterly frozen with anxiety that he would be gone, but the next day he was still there and we took him home. Getting my bike was a lot like that. It was still there the next day, so I bought it.

My bike is blue. It's an old Huffy beach cruiser, which means it has those nice wide handlebars and a big wide seat with springs and pedal brakes. It has a chain guard that says "Good Vibrations" in white scrawled script. Very California. I even have a basket on the front for groceries. And it's a girl's bike, so I can ride it with a skirt and also mount and dismount it with relative grace and ease. The seat is fairly low too, which helps with the simultaneously-braking-and-putting-foot-out-to-avoid-tipping-over problem.

In the first few weeks of ownership, both tires popped, both times when I wasn't even on the bike. The lady at the bike shop was very apologetic about it, especially when I came in for the second tire. She gave me a deal and did a speedy job on the inner tubes.

Things I can do on my bike without falling over include: answer my phone from inside my bag, button my coat, have a brief conversation with the crossing guard, ride off small curbs and over that massive upheaval of pavement just west of the Zemeckis centre.

Last week I finally collided with something on my bike. I say finally because I have long expected to collide with something, what with all the mingling with foot traffic I do, especially on campus. Of course, I collided with another bike, although we were amidst much foot traffic. This has bent the frame of the front wheel a little, which now wobbles in an endearing way, though does not rub on the frame.

I get a deep sense of contentment riding my bike very slowly next to a friend who is walking, especially between campus and the Zemeckis centre. There is no better wake-up feeling than feeling the air of the morning blow through my wet hair on the way to school. I feel like the coolest person in the world when I coast, standing on one side of the bike, up the small ridge of pavement to my driveway and step off to a walking pace right before the gate.