The first time I ever took a road trip on a bicycle I just loaded up the front basket of a borrowed bike (mine had gotten stolen a few months earlier and I was too poor to replace it) with cans of food and bottles of water and took off. The bike (a Takara road bike) was too big for me, the steering was off from the over loaded basket and I had no real camping equipment--just a poncho and an emergency blanket. The trip should have been horrible--I was ill-equipped, I ran out of food and water and got lost (helped by kind strangers on the last two problems). But it wasn't at all, I loved most of it. The most memorable (and horrible) part of the trip was when I was traveling a rural black-top and I noticed a silent dog running behind me with his teeth bared--I put all my energy into cresting the steep hill we were half way up so that I could out run him on the down side. When I made it to the bottom of the hill, I noticed that I was between two steep hills and decided to rest a bit before tackling the next one. I was off my bike resting against a tree, across the highway from a farm house when a large loose dog came running from the tree line bordering the yard. I froze, bottle of water close to my face, eyes locked on those teeth and eyes, it was as if I could see every hair and bit of foamy spittle on its muzzle. We were both so intent on each other that neither one of us noticed the trailer truck rushing down the hill I was about to tackle. All of sudden a running dog was replaced by the blurred outline of a semi truck. The dog must have been thrown because he wasn't there after the truck was gone. I was too shaken to go look. I was relieved for myself, but I did really feel bad for the dog and angry at it's owners for leaving it loose when they live on a highway. Despite all that (or maybe because of things like that--after all, it's this complete interaction with my environment as I ride my bike that I love so much) I got addicted to bike riding. Even though I have always owned a bicycle, I had, in the past, used my bike more like a useful toy than an instrument of joy and independence. Since then, my love has only grown.
Closest Call
See favorite bike story. I also was once hit by truck while on a bike in Southern Mexico. Nothing broken or hurt except the frames of my glasses. Usually no big deal, but of course, I'm blind without my glasses and these were already my replacement pair! A kind stranger lent me the temples off her sunglasses--a little duct tape, a little hick ingenuity and Voila--repair complete!
