Bicycle Diaries: Bike is named, then crashed.

I've had my bike for a couple months now and rode about 175 miles. I named it the Killer Butte, named after a dear friend's dead cat and Steptoe Butte, a most love place I just got the chance to see.

So I'm riding the Butte the other day and I'm close to home. There's a guy walking and I decide to go around him on the grass. Turns out the grass is freshly edged. My tire gets stuck, I fly onto Evergreen Road. The guy pulls me out of the street and I come out of it with a few bruises and scrapes. But I wrecked my bike 3 miles from my house! The brakes were misaligned and the kickstand out of place, too. I called my husband to pick me up, but was too shaken to get my rack onto my car. Luckily we fit the bike in my car. The bike's fixed, but now my odometer doesn't work. Oh well, I'll just keep track.


Carlie said...


pandamans said...

I am glad that you are alive and going to the Yankees game this weekend at the FUNHAÜÜÜÜÜS!

I am sad about your odometer though. I am up to about 130 miles now. I think I emailed you about critical mass and how fun it was - 21 miles. I still need a name for mine. I'll let it marinate and sizzle on the mind for a while.