Cherokee Sage Woman

I haven't ridden on a bicycle for any extended period of time since I was 9. My dad bought me & my little sister Sallye an ugly orange beat up bike without brakes, for $2 from a kid who needed cigarette money (understand that $2 bought a carton of cigarettes back then). The bike was a treasure to my sister & I. We timed each other so no one got more experience than the other. Having no brakes was not a deterent to our hapless practice runs. Sallye is short, so her method of braking was to run into the oak tree in the front yard. That poor tree developed an area of dead bark forever marking that memory. As for myself, I chose the 'drag-your-feet' mode of stoppage, since I was practically my fullgrown 5'8" at the age of 9. Yes, it made for a terrible waste of shoe sole, & was quite excruciating when I was pedaling barefoot.. but it worked for me.
After those carefree days with the old orange crate, I don't recall ever having had a bike again in my childhood.

Fast forward to 1982, and the guy I'm dating belongs to a statewide bike club that pedals its way, in 50 miles per day junkets, across the great state of Oklahoma. Granted, it's just 'OK'. But it sounded so exotic & he had grand thighs.. what could I lose? Oh, about a $300 investment, actually. I bought a nice 10 speed bike, also getting a big fat seat to match my... big fat ambitions. We decided to take it to the south oval of the OU campus.. the trial run for setting all the bells & whistles. I made it about 6 blocks before I surrendered to the call of gravity & laying the bike gently down.. I simply walked away. Jane Fonda could have that burn! It wasn't for me.

More fast forwarding to the winter of 2000.. I am dating a guy off Daytona Beach who lives next to a state park. He has 2 bikes.. how about a leisurely ride on the paved nature trail.. no muss or fuss, or 50 miles to contemplate. I felt way too high up on the seat, but the pedaling motion did come back to me. Slow corners here & there.. not bad, I could pick up some speed. Then OH NO! People-on-the-trail! What to do? What to do?? My reflexes went back to my 9th yr & I tried to drag my feet. Too far up! I panic.. I lose control.. I wipe out 1/2 dozen people.. I yell warnings to others up ahead.. "Run away bike!!"
They oblige me by scattering to the 4 winds. I am looking for the softest place to tip the bike over for a landing. Or in the least, to find a strong oak tree to crash into. The brakes on the handlebars never enter my mind. I am in my limbic brain.. fight or flight, heavy on the flight. After the 'boyfriend' quits laughing long enough to come grab my bike & slow it down to stop w/ his own braking power.. I realize I am not going to be allowed to make a total fool of myself that day. Only 99%.

Slow forward to November 2004.. & the camping mania that has possessed my being for the past month or so. I am thinking I should give biking another chance. I peruse the shiny new ones at the store & envision myself happily wheeling & whistling & whiling my way through the state parks of FL (far away from the one in Daytona which probably still bears freaked out hikers who tell of the legend of the crazed lady biker sans brakes.). And so I talk myself into buying one. 26" TALL! Metallic blue beauty. Gel seat for my gel-depleted areas.
And if I must, I will wear the old stack-heeled shoes.. just for emergency braking.