I nearly killed myself on my very light, very fast, very, very cool bike (see previous post) on Monday. It's a flashy racing bike that I have been using for tooling around town. It is certainly the wrong tool for my needs. I didn't realize how truly, madly, deeply that purchase was so dangerously foolish and wrong until I found myself on the pavement in a bloody heap. I did the inventory this morning, beaten, bruised, stiff, creaky. It feels like someone took a baseball bat to key parts of my body. Not the lesson I wanted.
I also marvel at how I didn't break a bone, a wrist, a finger, didn't crack my head. Sure, I have a few nasty contusions and abrasions, but man, oh man, did I dodge a silver bullet? Yes, indeed.
Yesterday I rolled the bike back to the bike shop, told them my tale of woe: in the face of a wildly careening car, I was riding too fast, braked too hard, went flying over handlebars onto the hard, blacktop. Sure, I'll admit, it was a case of operator error. But the design of the bike too, sort of lends itself to a "catapult effect," (the bike stopped on a dime, the rider's momentum sent him flying forward towards oblivion), I am sure there is some mathematical equation that explains it all: Speed x Momentum x Stupidity = Mayhem. The catapult effect. I came up with that catchy phrase myself.
I worked out a trade. I am going to trade the cool, flashy one for an older, heavier, much clunkier model. That is so much more in line with me. That's the lesson. I think about all of my most prized possessions: a big old clunky acoustic guitar, an old, bulky, Sony Walkman, a pair of old, reliable Grado Headphones, those little old-tech shining CDs, old beat Levis, old beat Timberland Boots, an ancient coffeemaker, a homely Fender Telecaster electric guitar, a classic, old tube amp, a classic home stereo system with big clunky components & old-world speakers. Everything I truly value is old, clunky, a bit beat, a bit slow to the tempo of the world flashing around me. I am all those things too. Lesson learned. Happy to be alive to recount the the tale. Be less like the fast & flashy Hare, and more like the slow and methodical, one step at a time Turtle. Slow, methodical, beat, clunky. Yes, that's the ticket.
