A friend I made recently, cajoled me to go for a bike ride on a scenic trail near the Fraser River, in South East Vancouver, where people come for walks with their family, friends and dogs. The bike trail is set between a field and trees which overlook the Fraser River for some miles.
It had been six years since I had been on my bike which I purchased in Edmonton, Alberta and used it only a few times. Since moving to Vancouver, my bike had been sitting in storage, collecting dust. I was seriously considering selling it until I chanced upon an adventurous woman named, Debbie, who would push my limits and take me out of my comfort zone – just what a homebody like me needed.
Debbie was keen on going for a bike ride. I, on the contrary, was hesitant, however, she managed to convince me to give it a try. My friend meticulously fastened our bikes to the racks on her car and we happily drove to the Kent Avenue bike trail.
Since I had not been on my bike for so long, I had to take some time to get used to it, especially the stopping part. I practiced in the cul de sac until my friend prompted me to proceed to the trail. I managed to follow her on the bike trail and we came across a hill and as I rode up the base, I wiped out. My right handle bar landed and hit the ground and I fell off to the side.
Unscathed, I got up, dusted myself off, and pushed my bike up the hill until I was on the flat trail. Debbie rode in front and pre-warned me of people or dogs on the trail so I could slow down. Most of my ride rolled along smoothly until we came to a bridge over a swamp and a hill with a railway track perched above it.
As usual, my friend warned me that there is a bridge, a hill and railway track approaching. When my eyes fell upon the narrow bridge, the steep hill and the insurmountable railway track, all of it looked overwhelmingly daunting to me and I panicked and veered left into tall – taller than me, blades of grass and collapsed right into the cushioned bottom, flattening the grass where I and my bike landed.
“Are you alright?!!,” Debbie yelled, as she anxiously ran towards me.
Of course! I was. Of all the places in the world to land when you go flying off your bike, is there any better place than a field of tall, soft, sheilding grasses? We both couldn’t stop laughing.
” When we were riding,” my friend explained, “and I looked back…
You vanished!” “And all I heard was a scream, AAAAAAAAAAAHHH!!”
Observantly, she stated, “You cleared the grass and made a nice nest for yourself.” The whole thing was hysterical and we were laughing for days after.
Our next adventure is horseback riding.
“I hope you don’t drive the horse into the bushes,” Debbie joked.
And imagination ignites…