Port Credit on my Bike-On-Loan

Port Credit on my Bike-On-Loan

Is it ok to post two entries about my bike-on-loan in one day!! πŸ™‚

So today I woke up for the first time in over a week without any muscle soreness. My Olympic training exercises have subsided…till tonight when it will start all over again.

In any event, with my body feeling like new, this morning was a great opportunity to see how far I could ride in one direction and still be able to walk.

I really want to get that shaky leg feeling going. After a good hour ride, I am disappointed. The only thing feeling shaky and fast asleep is my poor derriere!!

This on-road biking this is new to me. I am used to trails where you spend 10% in the saddle and 90% standing up dodging old stumps, overhanging trees and trying to keep ahead of the hungry animals lurking in the woods.

I’ve never needed bike shorts before. You know the kind. The ones that feel like you are wearing an adult diaper.

But here I am, wearing bike shorts, working on the most obscure tan lines (I secretly hope that all the models at the next Paris fashion show are sporting bike-short tan lines, that will make me feel better!), I have a shiny new helmet and full-on bike gloves.

Today’s adventure was to bike west as far as I could and here I am in Port Credit watching boats go in and out of the harbour. Does this count for a harbour?

On the ride here I have made a discovery about biking in general.

The bike bell is something that is disliked when it is ding ding ding DINGED – like a million times and since I’ve been dinged at enough while in-line skating, I decided I would forgo the bike bell. I know the “Olympic sized horn” was a good idea but it has terrible aerodynamics.

So without a bike bell to go ding ding ding, I quietly passed a pair of fellow bikers on a lazy and wide road. I didn’t think it was necessary to make a big spectacle that I would be passing them with 5 feet between me and the closest biker, but I was WRONG!

As soon as the farthest biker realized I was going to pass them he yelled into his friend’s ear, “BIKER ON YOUR LEFT” and then preceded to DING DING DING DING his bike bell.

I raced away not sure if he was expecting me to stop and apologize for my, apparently, bad bike manners.

So the discovery is no matter with or without a bike bell, SOMEONE somewhere is going to have issue with how you play the sport. It is up to me to decide which random group of people I’d rather have yelling at me for my sport induced indiscretions πŸ™‚ Like the lady on the path who was coming towards me yelling “BIKE COMING, BIKE COMING!!” I thought it was pretty obviously, visually, that I was biking towards them πŸ™‚

I don’t think there is any way to please everyone and what they feel is acceptable biking behaviour. Perhaps a solution is to ride around like I have a severe case of turrets yelling at everyone and everything I pass?!

I am thinking a standard one liner like. “BIKE INCOMING, BIKE INCOMING, to your LEFT…umm no I mean your RIGHT!!!”

The last few questions I have yet to answer are:

1. How long till the bones on my buttocks form large callouses (is this even possible)?
2. When will my buttocks stop falling asleep while riding?
3. Do I need to push harder to get my legs to feel the burn on the road or should I just find some long hills…..
4. What is with the broken down lawnmower in front of the tree?

Long Weekends

Long Weekends

I will do my best not to bore you with my long weekend adventures or rather lack there of, but I fancy writing something this afternoon and unfortunately have not had anything particularly funny or interesting happen lately so will make do with my imagination.

Life has somewhat turned into a routine now that I’ve learned what it is like to live without a car. I didn’t realize leading up to this weekend how deep set my cabin fever had become. It wasn’t until I was whisked away on an unplanned Sunday afternoon that I realized how bad it’d become. I am turning into a hermit which I imagine will eventually turn me into “that nutty aunt of ours”.

So this whisking away business is simply my family deciding it was time that I visit them regardless. When I was able to visit on my own, by the evening I usually would complain and find an excuse to dart home to sleep in my own bed but this time I didn’t have much of a choice.

See I don’t mind sleeping over. What I have a hard time with is that since I live so close, 30 minutes in a car, it seems ridiculous that I’d sleep in a bed that is not mine when mine is so close by. Mind you it is much more entertaining to wake up and have a full breakfast ready. That happens rarely at my house and only when guests are arriving from their own homes for a mid-morning brunch, usually with coffees in their hands (and the downside is I am the one making the breakfast haha). So you could say that sleeping over even when I live only 30 minutes away is worth getting over my unfounded sleep-over anxiety.

It isn’t that I think I’ll miss out on some fantastic unplanned adventure any one of my friends may come up with while I am out of town (Ok, maybe it is, just a little ;)) but really it’s more than that. It is also that the next day I can never figure out when the “right” time is to leave.

Here I am, still 30 minutes away from my house without any stress of “when should I leave” simply because walking is not an option. I smell like barbecue and I just finished a cold can of Pepsi, this is relevant only because I dislike pop but here I am enjoying a gut wretching pop. Its been a long while since I have been this relaxed. The so relaxed feeling where the only energy I possess is to curl up and read a book from a favourite author.

I chalk this weekend up to being a little like a cottage weekend that is nowhere near a lake or a river.

We did spend a fair amount of time outside hiking wood trails. I don’t know if there is a difference between “wood trails” and “trails” but I feel it is important to note that we were in the woods on trails. The reason for the importance are the dangers when it comes to being on a trail in the woods.

Growing up I spent most weekends riding the back trails to the lake, having a swim across the lake and back, then racing home soaking wet. I decided however that partaking in the swim after the plus 2 hour ride was only suitable between the months of June and August. That’s only three months of swimming. This worked out most of the time because it coincided with summer break from school.

What was so exhilarating about the bike rides wasn’t the swim. It was the idea that lurking in the woods was a giant black bear waiting quietly for their dinner. I don’t really think black bears are meat eaters but they certainly will attack when frightened, hungry, have cubs or just feel generally bored.

I never physically faced a black bear. I’ve seen them up a tree, in the bush but never face to face on the bike trail. But thinking about the possibility made me ride as fast as my legs would take me.

This weekend while trekking through the woods I wasn’t pre-occupied with bears, I was pre-occupied with deer ticks.

They are not as physically ominous as a black bear but to me they are much more sneaky.

They are mooches that latch on and potentially infect our bodies with crippling lyme disease. As we were trekking along I was contemplating what is better; an adrenaline battle with a giant black bear that had an obvious advantage or a small pin head sized insect that could wreck havoc over a period of time if not detected?

Both can be easily subdued – one with a loaded shot gun and the other with DEET laden bug spray. The long term health effects certainly are worse with the bug spray + the lyme disease – providing the bug spray fails. However the alternative, if the gun shot fails to hit its target, well, the outcome is much more immediate and final – not in a good way.

I haven’t decided which is a better or worse scenario.

What I have decided is that neither will keep me from enjoying nature and a relaxing afternoon, evening, day or weekend. πŸ™‚

Here is a link to some information on Lyme disease. And be proud, it is NOT wikipedia πŸ™‚