Gravity Strikes in the Heartland

Once upon a time there was a twenty-something named John. He lived in a smallish college town in one of the Midwestern states of little consequence.

And because his town was of a fitting size, John liked to ride his bike wherever he could. To class, the grocery store, to his friends' houses. And sometimes just to ride. And periodically, he would make quippy, self-approving blog posts about his biking feats.

But one day something bad happened. Swinging leg and limb over his bike's tubular frame, John set out on a ride. It was night time. The streets were nearly deserted and the still evening air warm and clammy to the skin.

But the open, empty streets were intoxicating for this young man. The wind was still and the pedals pumped with ease. His speed increased — heart beating, hubris flowing freely.

But one mile from his home, this twenty-something decided the evening's temperatures were too warm for even the thin riding jacket sheltering his upper body. And it was at this point that he made a most unfortunate decision.

"I'm hot. I'll just take my jacket off while riding," he thought to himself. But a quieter, innner voice spoke back, deep within the soul. "John. You're a moron. Stop the bike and THEN take off the jacket. Please?"

But no. Not this night. Cyclistic delirium had set in and the man made up his mind. The jacket was coming off — while the bike was rolling.

The first sleeve came off with ease. Right arm out! Freedom! The night air kissed his forearm's skin, whisking away uncomfortable trapped heat.

And then. TROUBLE.

Though the right sleeve was free, this new found liberty promptly allowed its entry into the path of the rear wheel, which hastily gobbled it up into the bike's innerds.

And so the right sleeve created two problems. Though not ripping John from the craft, it provided slowing frictional forces and tragically, put him off balance at a time when both his hands were off the handlebars.

And then tragedy struck.

You see, John had around his neck a camera bag of significant weight and bulk. When the right sleeve became intimately acquainted with the bike's inner workings, the camera bag gracefully, purposefully slipped from John's shoulder, and made contact.

And this contact came in the form of the bag striking the spokes of John's front wheel, lodging itself tightly, and ending ALL forward motion of said wheel and in turn — the bike.

And more quickly than he can remember, gravity took hold of John's body. Firm, unseen hands wrenched his vulnerable mass from the saddle, holding him awkwardly in the air for two terror filled blinks, and then depositing him coldly onto the unyielding blacktop.

Confusion set in. Questions of what had just happened. And some cursing.

And after slowly getting to his feet, and checking himself over and finding not a scratch, John realized all was not well with his steely two-wheeled companion lying motionless beside him.

*more profanity*

The damage:
front wheel — severely bent and unrollable, one spoke broken
rear wheel — slightly bent but rollable
pride in riding abilities — deflated
inwardly aimed anger — inflamed

And so, we close this little story of our twenty-something with his mile-long walk back home. Cradling his unmountable steed and trodding toward his house, John reflected on many things: Why he decided to remove his jacket while riding, whether his camera survived the crash without damage (which it seems it has), why his fellow house mates didn't answer his calls for a ride after the incident (he's over it), but most importantly, his attitude leading up to the wreck.

John was wearing his helmet during the time of the crash, but perhaps, he realized, he's NOT quite so invincible. So untouchable. And perhaps he should consider a less aggressive approach to his two-wheeled rovings.

And the bike will be fixed — parts replaced and reformed. But fortunately for our rider, he escaped with merely a bruised hip.

So, take to heart the dangers of arrogant cycling, and what could happen by simply taking off your jacket while riding. DON'T DO IT.

But if you do, at least have some kind of injuries to show off.

John?

He had none.