operation_two_wheel_freedom tender_square is officially a go. the tubes weren’t shot, the tires just needed a good blow. the mechanic said, “these one-speed beach cruisers are pretty indestructible, even a cheap one like this.” it irritated her that her husband insisted on walking along to the bike shop, even though she’d only be gone a half hour. and this is why she wanted to repair the bike to commute to work, so she wouldn’t have the obligation of turning to wave to him from the double doors as she stepped inside. he’d hover by the curb until she was out of view like a toddler being dropped at daycare. tomorrow, she’d ride alone for the first time on two wheels in two years. 220612 ... past ohhh! have a great ride! friday, i disconnected the tagalong and went for a ride by myself, one of the first of the season, and it was glorious. a mix of not hauling anyone (either on my own bike or the new-to-us longtail) and not really having a deadline (this latter an illusion) was wonderful. i went so fast. 220612 ... epitome of incomprehensibility Have fun! I like the feeling of the wind whooshing past - it makes hotter days seem bearable. Uphill going is still sweaty-tough, but biking does feel liberating just in its kinetics (for those who can make it work physically and aren't carry lots of things). Well, for me, anyway. You know what's pathetic? I haven't ridden my bike at all yet this season, and it's been sitting in the shed for weeks. (In cold weather, it goes in the basement.) 220612 ... e_o_i *aren't carrying (I know how verbs work, I swear) 220612 ... tender_square i forgotten the sensation of bronchial burn. i crested the first hill in a dress with wedge shoes, only to have to cycle across a slow slope up. “fuck…this…shit…” i huffed as i painstakingly pedaled past stopped traffic. the speed of the descents frightened me, the wind whip across limbs its own turbulence. “hi, birdies,” i called to two sparrows chatting on the curb. “no, guys!” i shouted when two fighting chipmunks nearly tumbled into the gutter, missing my wheel. even after two years absence, i remembered what a bitch vinecrest road was, and dismounted from my bike to walk the entire block uphill. i yelled “FUCK!” when i hit an unexpected pothole off washtenaw. a guy leisurely passed me cycling on church street when i was spent. and when i got to work and checked the time, i was very nearly late after having left early, taking almost 35 minutes to bike three-and-a-half miles. 220613 ... tender_square a boy grunted behind me as we climbed platt’s hill, him on the sidewalk, me in the bike lane, while his dad and brother were further ahead. i turned and said, “i feel ya,” and the kid pedaled harder, making me wonder if i sounded like stranger danger. i cut through county farm, thinking it’d be a smoother ride, but ended up at a dead end, and when i turned around, got caught on a very bumpy gravel path, my bike bell dinging with every thud. i passed two sets of two women in mid-conversation, and rode through the metal arch. on the streetside path, another cyclist ahead of me got of the saddle and i followed suit, thighs howling. “this is the hardest part,” i panted aloud, over and over. by the time i reached the stoplight i was spent and probably only a half-mile in. in the affluent neighbourhood of long lawns and window pelotons, i took a left too early and ended up on devonshire. i walked the bike uphill once more and a woman lapped me walking, another cyclist avoided my nod, and two people stepping out of a parked car looked concerned for me. the route took me to washtenaw, the street i was attempting to avoid, and i rode hilly sidewalks for a third of the duration. on church, a styrofoam plate floated under my wheel and i yelled “c’mon man” to a guy at a four-way stop who wouldn’t move, forcing me to stop my limited speed. 220617 what's it to you? who go blather from