If it's not one thing, it's another!

Okay, so I'm on this new kick (actually, I hope it's more of a permanent lifestyle change than a "kick"--some things are too important to be merely a fad) of leaving my car in the garage and shopping locally. I've always been an avid walker, but last year's addition of a cruiser bike (translation by my kid's "old lady bike") to my household, widened my traveling horizons extensively. I hadn't used it much, having no way to transport items with it, but the gift of some perfect panniers (from my children and their significant others) for my birthday last month gave me the perfect opportunity to put my new local habits into action.

On Day 1, I eagerly plotted my first trip. Hannibal's journey across the Alps had less planning. I'd offered to make a deposit at Jeremy's bank, had books to drop off at the library, had my own banking to do and wanted to pick up a loaf of bread. It didn't sound particularly ambitious, but the prep time was a bit discouraging. Wallet, check book, cell phone, keys, helmet, air in tires--I figured I had it covered. I triumphantly trundled my bike complete with sparkling new panniers, out of the garage and out to 26th Ave, adjusted my mirror and hopped on.

As I rounded the corner, I realized that in my bicycle's recent trip to Wheat Ridge Cyclery for a tune up, the seat had been lowered to be just a tad too short. Stopping the bike on Yates--a mere two blocks from my starting point, I hopped off, flipped the lever to raise the seat, only to find that I couldn't press the level back into position as it was hitting the bracket of my newly installed panniers. Now, I have many talents, but bike mechanics is not one of them. I fiddled and pushed, and did manage to get the lever pushed over to a position that tightened the seat, if not locking it in all the way. I tested the seat--it held. Okay, I'll ride it this way until Jeremy can look at it. Off I went....about 10 feet before the right pannier fell off with a dull thump to the street. Back off the bike, causing the seat to twist so that the horn was facing two o'clock instead of high noon. Reapply pannier (more bike mechanics) and tie it down with bungy cords which I happened to have. Okay, this looks awful , but it's secure, at least and I can have Jeremy fix it when he gets home. (Jeremy's list was getting quite extensive and I was less than three blocks from the house!)

Wrenching the seat back into position, I took off again for approximately three blocks of pleasant riding, after which I realized I'd forgotten to bring my bike lock (how on earth was I going to go into all the local shops to run my errands if I didn't have the lock???) and had left my water bottle sitting on the kitchen table. With the seat twisting madly from side to side every time I stood up on the pedals (or dared turn my head for that matter) and the bungy-anchored pannier bag brushing up against the back of my heel with each rotation of the pedals, the car and the mall were starting to look pretty appealing.

Arrived at the library, where I was able to dump my books in the book return bin and avoid leaving the bike unlocked and unattended. Then, off to Jeremy's bank--scootching my butt every half block or so to straighten out the seat I got pretty good at it--although several motorists shot me some quizzical looks.

Now, keep in mind, that I am used to banking at my small neighborhood bank. I haven't set foot in a large banking institution in probably five years. The banking that Jeremy usually does is via the ATM, but I didn't have his card, so I had to go in and actually (gasp!) deal with a a human!I'd forgotten that large banks are very different from what I'm used to--very outside of my comfort zone. Very crowded! When I arrived, there were at least 15 people in line. I knew Jeremy was counting on me to make the deposit (and given the list of honey-do's I was accumulating for him, it seemed only fair that I complete the task) so with no other options, I ignored the bike rack conveniently placed outside the door and trucked into the branch--bike, bungied panniers and all. My plan was to leave the bike between the sets of double doors, which I could do, except for the fact that the counter for people to fill out deposit slips, etc. was right there. With options dwindling, I pushed the bike off to one side as best I could and prayed the customers ahead of me would move through quickly. They didn't. I stood in the line clutching my bike helmet (which ratted me out as the offensive boob who'd left her bike smack dab in the middle of the bank's entrance) and watched as people virtually straddled the bike in an attempt to fill out their forms. It would have been pretty funny actually, if I hadn't been so mortified. I made the deposit, murmured one final apology to the crowd (who were being mercifully kind and patient with me) and fled!

On the road again, where I developed a powerful thirst and had no water with which to quench it. Twist, twist, twist, went the seat, Plop, plop, plop went my heel brushing against the pannier. I blew off the bread shop and headed for my bank, where leaving the bike by the door and running in and out to do my own banking took all of 20 seconds, I finally headed for home, witnessing a near-miss that involved much squealing of tires and brakes along with verbal insults and finger-pointing (and you know which finger), that fortunately was between two cars and had nothing to do with me. Nonetheless it left me shaken and edgy.

Phew! Safe at last! When Jeremy came home, I proclaimed to him that it had been a "bad pannier day" (mostly because I like saying the word "pannier") He showed me what I was doing wrong with the seat and he tightened it up, modified the pannier to make it stay on and stop the heel-slapping business, and gave me appropriate spousal clucking and moral support. I put my lock in said pannier to keep it there for all times and Jeremy added a water bottle holder to my spiffy bike.

I'll post another blog that tells of my future bicycling adventures. Things have gotten much better. My friend and colleague Barbara Winter says if you want to learn to do something well, you need to be willing to do it badly at first. If that's true--and I believe it is--then I should be the best darn pannier-totin' bike rider Northwest Denver has ever seen!