yfritz's Journal, 20 Jun 22

Crap bike journal
(photo dedicated to Kenna Morton)

A few people on this site thought my bike was a MTB. Perhaps they were only being polite, but gullible yfritz was encouraged and thought her crappy hybrid bike could conquer the messed up world, or at least this unfamiliar MTB trail; a cute (real cute) fellow biker in the park swore that the trail was for beginners.

As expected in any coastal trail, the terrain was sandy, yet the ground was still strewn with large roots, branches and vibrant vegetations. Oh, I forgot to mention, pine cones in NC are massive. In other words, the terrain was properly rugged. Those elements completely rearranged the mode in which the skinny wheels of my crap bike operated. Then there were extreme gradients. By “extreme,” I meant not so much their steepness; it was their abruptness that confronted me with the solemn realization that I might not make it without breaking a bone or two. Before I knew the front wheel hit a hidden drop and I leapt from the saddle spread eagle. I landed unharmed (I have many unmarketable skills) as the crap bike collided into a tree and fell with its wheels facing up like a dying insect. “yfritz, ixnay the mission, it’s too damn hard,” my instinct whispered, but as usual it whispered too late, and I was already hopelessly lost. I had no idea how many more miles to Babylon. Will I get there by candle light? Unbeknownst to me was the number of the leaps and collisions that awaited ahead. I didn’t think my crap bike would make it and I was genuinely scared.

I sobbed. I have been holding tears for some time, trying to accept the sense of resignation, that I am not good enough, never lovable enough, unworthy of small happiness I have always wanted since I was a child. Last 12 months or so, I spent a lot of energy convincing myself that the Milky Way was insignificant, and that it was all fine and dandy if I die without ever seeing the spectacular galaxy.

I picked up my crap bike, it looked sad, years of neglect was visible on its rust, but while I could accept the world that does not value me, I didn’t want to say my bike was not good enough. It was good enough for me, its crappiness and all. After all, it was this bike that got me through the hardest months after my brother’s death.

Amazingly the bike still functioned after several collisions it encountered on this godforsaken trail.
More amazingly though, the bike led me to a pond. A carpet of waterlilies unfurled in front of me. It was a mirror image of the Milky Way.

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718 kcal

Fat: 26.12g | Prot: 42.78g | Carbs: 82.57g.   Breakfast: Kind Healthy Grains Dark Chocolate Clusters, Silk Creamy Low Fat Oat Milk, Dole Bananas. Lunch: Roasted Broiled or Baked Chicken Leg (Skin Eaten). Dinner: St Pierre Brioche Roll, Bulgur (Fat Added in Cooking), Tomatoes, Walmart Fajita Seasoned Grilled Chicken, Ranch Salad Dressing. more...