Having a bike: the best thing yet

A friend of mine found me a $5 bike at a garage sale.  It is dirty/rusty, has a squeaky seat and needs new tires.

I love it.

I have now joined the legions on bikes zipping around the city.  Well, I go about half the speed of everybody else (because Squeaky doesn’t have more than one speed) and feel like maybe I shouldn’t be in the bike lane.

It’s still awesome because I no longer have to sit on the bus or train next to someone reeking of piss and poison and drinking booze out of a paper bag!  I don’t have to wait for the bus to laboriously trundle up to the stop or stand on the platform with a bunch of slightly irritated people craning their necks to see down the track looking for the train as if looking will make it come faster!  Now I just have to worry about being hit by a bus… or car… or other bike.

The first day I was able to ride I took Squeaky up to Devon street to get some fried paneer and roti and daal.  From Logan Square, that’s 10-12 miles there and back.  I am not that athletic by any stretch.

Feeling full of accomplishment and energized by the possibilities for exploring the city without spending money, I sat on the couch to relax a little bit before I took a shower, intending to revel in the loose-limbed-wrung out-absolutely exhausted feeling that sweating in the hot sun and pedaling hard earned me.  I must have fallen asleep immediately, because suddenly the room wasn’t as filled with sunlight and I had drool dribbling down my chin and on to my shirt.

Well done me.  Bikes are awesome.

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