just a few moments ago, i was in a somewhat contrived and predictable bike accident. see, every time i bike back to my suite, there is a rather narrow walkway, at the end of which is a 90-degree left turn. at this intersection of sorts there are usually any number of bikes parked in any number of random configurations. thus, biking through them usually takes the skill and balance of an acrobat.
until now, i have never failed to go through this gauntlet successfully. either i use my mad biking talents to navigate the choppy waters, or i realize it’s futile and walk my bike along.
today, i said to myself as i approached said Corral of Death, “this will be the hardest one yet!”, meaning of course that it looked well-nigh impossible to turn without crashing into the other bikes. i thought for a moment about calling it quits and walking safely through, leading my bike at my side like a trusty steed (in fact, the brand of my cycle is “iron horse”). instead, i recklessly decided to take my chances.
i neared the Turn of Utter Dismay and slowed down to a halt, using all my balance to keep steady (this is exactly what you have to do to make it–stop almost completely and then hop the bike around while stationary). all was going well, and i let out a bit of air to release some pressure. just at that moment, my right pedal brushed the rubber of a nearby tire, and caught slightly–of course, i knew then it was all over. i struggled valiantly but ultimately vainly to regain balance, but my initial over-compensation shot me down to the left, where i crashed into a girl’s pink mountain bike. this bike was attached to a rack so it stayed where it was but just turned sideways–me on top of it and my bike on top of me.
i took stock at that point and realized that my leg was pinned between the two bikes, my foot having scraped along the gears on the way down. i tried to right myself, but i was horizontal and my bike’s drop-forward handle bar extension on the left side had interlocked with the water bottle holder of the pink bike, making it impossible to clear the way for some leverage. eventually i had to extricate my leg, scraping it again on the chain in the process.
then i was able to untangle my bike, right the other one, and walk the five meters back to my suite.
it was a failure, true, but i’m not ashamed. i don’t think anyone else could have managed it, either. of course, i do have a few scrapes to show for my hubris. fortunately, one of them, when looked at from the appropriate angle, looks quite like south america, and the chain grease and blood on my foot form a pattern that clearly resembles a ribbed and leathery dragon wing. i feel that these battle scars are a glorious form of art, and i shall leave them unattended until i am forced to take a shower late tonight.
