Friday, June 15, 2007 1:09 AM CDT
Column: Some of us are still less than cool, even without the helmet
By PENNY WEAVER, Night News Editor
pweaver@jg-tc.com
Considering the trouble I have maintaining my balance on my own two feet, it’s no wonder riding around on two wheels presents a particular challenge to my coordination skills.
Translation: My bicycle may think that I’ve named it “Whoopsie!”
I’ve rediscovered the pleasure of riding this year, and it’s a nice thing to get back to.
All kids ride bikes, don’t they? I can remember having a green Schwinn — yup, with the banana kind of seat and tall handlebars and all.
The advantages to those seats is they are easy to put a foot on when you are standing up on a bike showing off for your friends or, in my case, for cousins.
My cousin Dawn is a year younger than I am, and she was always more of a daredevil than I. Naturally, I thought she was cool, and I just tried to keep up. Many bruises and scrapes evidenced my struggle to achieve a certain level of daring.
We asked my dad to make us a ramp so we could jump our bicycles, tomboys that we were. Sure, he made us a ramp — and it lifted our bikes about three entire inches higher than the ground.
Hm. Could he have been hinting at the danger of pushing the limits of my coordination? He was far too kind to point out what an awkward kid I was.
Oh, I still am, only now it doesn’t bother me (awkward, I mean, not a kid ... well, technically).
We’d take off down the blacktop a ways on our bikes, then pedal at top speed and veer into the yard and up on the ramp. Wheeee!
Oh, saying “wheee” isn’t very cool, huh? It’s not like I would know.
Mildly disappointed — but secretly relieved — by the short stature of the ramp, I helped Dawn put some more boards under the end of it to add some height. It was a little taller but wouldn’t exactly send us into the stratosphere.
Plus, the soft grassy landing we could look forward to was a comfort as well.
I don’t remember ever wrecking my bike via that ramp, but I did manage to crash pretty hard on the blacktop a few years later.
I had a nice and relatively new bike, and my sisters and I headed down the road for a ride. They were a bit ahead of me, so I hustled to catch up.
Unfortunately, our dog, Bandit, a Pekingese and poodle mix, wanted to go too. He proved this by darting in front of my front bicycle tire.
I braked suddenly, and the next thing I knew, I was down on the road’s surface with pieces of rock and black tar on my hands and knees. Naturally, I was wearing shorts.
I almost stumbled home, crying a little — hey, girls can cry when they get hurt, you know — so that Mom could patch me up. The bloody scrape on my palm was the worst, but, of course, I lived to tell my harrowing tale.
My family always had bicycles, and we enjoyed taking bike rides together. We once rode up the Clarksburg blacktop, through Shelbyville, back down Copeland road and home for a 16-mile trip.
And now that I’m riding a bike again regularly, I can’t believe I forgot how pleasant it is to just pedal along, enjoying the scenery, listening to the whir of the tires on the road.
A good old-fashioned cruiser kind of bicycle is probably best for me. First of all, comfort is my No. 1 consideration. Sure, I know that reveals my age, but how can you go wrong if you’re comfortable?
Oh, I’ve tried mountain biking. I had a mountain bike when I lived near Atlanta, Ga., and I tried out a few trails in the area.
But it’s hard to enjoy the scenery of a dirt trail winding through the woods and along the river when you’re barreling along, leaned over the handlebars, clenching the grips with gloved hands and sweating underneath a very necessary helmet.
No thanks. If I’m going to ride a bicycle, I’m not wearing a helmet. So I’m not going to get up a whole lot of speed or go careening over roots and rocks and undergrowth.
I have to admit it: I laugh to myself when I see a little kid wearing a helmet, knee pads, elbow pads, etc., when they are riding a bicycle. Maybe his parents should just get it over with and put a “beat me up” sign on his back.
Come on! None of us wore helmets on bicycles when we were kids, and we lived to tell about it.
I know — accidents do happen. I don’t blame parents who want to protect their children, but I wonder if we just plain take it too far sometimes.
On the other hand, I won’t leave the driveway on my motorcycle without a helmet, jacket, gloves, long pants and sturdy boots on. I’d rather be safe than sorry.
I even managed to prove my own point this week when I took a spill on the cycle in some gravel. It was minor — and that was because I was wearing the proper gear. I’ve got some bruises, but if I hadn’t had my usual motorcycle attire on, I might still be picking rocks out of my skin.
No, I’ll do my “living on the edge” when I get out the good ol’ Schwinn. I ride that bicycle just like when I was a kid: no helmet, no gloves, no long sleeves. Heck, I often ride wearing shorts, too, instead of long pants to protect my legs, now a bit bruised from dropping my motorcycle.
Hm. It may just be a matter of time before I take a spill on my bicycle. I’m so uncoordinated — I’m still surprised that I can steer and pedal at the same time, not to mention that whole balancing on two wheels thing.
Perhaps I should consider training wheels on my bike. It’s not like I have a corner on the market of “cool.” I’m pretty sure I’m not even in that market. But cool is overrated anyway.
Yup, that’s what all the uncool kids say.
Penny Weaver is the night news editor for the Journal Gazette/Times-Courier. Contact Weaver at pweaver @jg-tc.com or 238-6863.
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Rotty wrote on Jun 15, 2007 2:00 PM: