I love riding my handcycle, but it does have certain disadvantages.
A few days ago I was cruising along a wonderful trail, enjoying a great ride on a gorgeous Colorado day. Leaned into a right-hand turn to go under a bridge and OOPS! With no warning, my bike and I were thigh deep in about 18″ of water. Couldn’t go forward–deeper water ahead. So I reached beneath the water and pushed on the muddy, slimy concrete with my hands, inching backwards up the slope to dry land.
Turned out to be an expensive plunge. I carry my phone in the pocket of my shorts; it didn’t survive its brief dip. I sat for a few moments while the sun dried things a bit and wondered why I didn’t see the approaching hazard. Several cyclists rode toward the water and calmly turned left. I finally realized they were high enough to see the water over the grass and weeds. I sit much lower; no way I could see what was coming.
So I turned around and headed home. Cranked maybe 2 miles when I heard WHOOSH-FLOP-FLOP-FLOP.
Flat tire. On a trail 15 miles from home, 3-4 miles from the nearest road. Oh, and a drowned phone.
Cyclists are incredibly helpful. I borrowed a cell phone, Becky rescued me, and all’s good.
I know folks who would be certain God was trying to teach me something through this experience. Personally, I think the lesson’s clear.
Stuff happens.
Doesn’t matter how careful you are, how diligently you maintain your equipment. Flat tires happen. Mechanical issues happen. Crashes, sadly, happen. Sometimes the stuff that happens is inconvenient. Sometimes it’s expensive. Sometimes it hurts.
Want to avoid this nasty stuff? Stay home. Close the blinds. Watch television.
But if you’re following a dream, building community, making a difference, be sure that stuff will happen. It’s an inevitable part of the journey.
Did you chuckle at the idea of me and my bike splashing full-speed into a water hazard? You should! I wish I had video.
I’ll stay away from trails until spring snow melt slows down and rivers back off a bit. Of course I’m not happy about replacing the phone, but I’d still rather be riding my bike than sitting safely at home.
I’d rather be training for the FREEDOM TOUR, preparing for the amazing opportunity to sweat and sacrifice and share life with a team of committed, passionate people.
What are you training for? What are you doing that makes the risks worthwhile?