so I was totally looking forward to this weekend.
Our money situation had so dramatically improved from the last two years that I thought I'd splurge on something for myself...and the list ran long of what I wanted. A bluray player, upgrades for my computer, a PS3...the list went on and on of all the materialistic indulgences I could possibly treat myself to that was mine and mine alone. I would share it of course, I am married after all, fifty fifty my father told me the day I was getting married...marriage is fifty fifty...and with things having improved I kept to that. I made sure my wife had everything she wanted that we had been holding back on, that the house had everything it needed, that the pets were fed and happy so when I finally selected my indulgence, it would be without guilt...and after much thought, I made my decision, "la poderosa".
"la poderosa" named in honor of a historical and film icon, had been in storage for the last three years...actually, since we'd moved here, which is almost going of four years. She has been my best friend in LA during my college years...made sure I made it to class on time, made sure I had plenty of excercise, made sure I never had to worry about the annoying parking situation at school (it was $219 a semester when I graduated). "la poderosa" as you might have guessed by now, was my bicycle:
"La Poderosa" had developed some quirks over the years which made it near impossible to keep the back tire filled with air, it needed a good tuneup, and new brakes. Afraid of what it might cost to get that all fixed, into storage she went...and then both my wife and I lost our jobs, and we got into debt trying to survive, so when we finally did start working we were barely living paycheck to paycheck...and in the dark "la poderosa" remained. So when the time came to indulge in something for the first time in a long time I thought about my bike.
So last weekend I took it to a local bike shop, told them the situation and they said they could have her up and running by that following Monday. Monday came and went, I picked it up Tuesday...and rode it to my wife's school which was a good mile away...and "la poderosa" handled beautifully. That night I place her in our utility closet, the most satisfied I'd been in a long time. "I can't wait for the weekend" I said to myself.
The week dragged, as it always does when you wait for a particular weekend with anticipation. Friday was agony, and that night, I couldn't even sleep (mainly because our dog Sarah kept waking up barking and growling every time we moved, but that is another issue). Saturday came, did some chores, made breakfast, and with all that done I went to get my bike...stopping for a brief moment as I looked at the darkening sky and felt the slightest drop of rain on my forehead....screw it...I'm riding.
I kissed my wife as I put on my helmet (safety first), ignored her as she laughed at me for the way I looked in said helmet and hit the street. For the next hour, it was pure freedom...feeling that cold air stinging my face...the sweat in my brow, the burning in my legs when I picked up speed. It was heaven.
Before long though the water droplets started falling more frequently, it was starting to rain...not wanting to get caught in a down pour so far from our house I started heading back but the rain as I rode felt good. On the path I would pass fellow riders and they would say good morning and I'd respond "yes it is". As I came to the hill that led to our apartment my legs were on fire but I decided to give it my all in the last stretch, so I shifted gears...I pedaled once, pedaled twice...and suddenly I felt a sick jerk underneath me as the chain came off it's gears...maybe I need to pedal it a bit to get them back on track I thought, so I went down the hill to the bike path and pedaled as I changed gears...the sickening jerk was still there. I did this a few times and suddenly and hard the bike quit moving...
I looked down to see the chain completely off it's gears, the derailer bent at a 90 degree angle. Shit!
I walked it the rest of the way home...the derailer was toast:
They might be able to bend it back into place I thought...worst case scenario, I need a new derailer. I was dissapointed, but hopeful...next weekend when it's fixed again I will take her out longer to make up for it.
I checked in with Jessica, my wife...told her the situation, said I'd be back soon.
I cleared some room in the car..placed the bike inside...I smiled as some kids rode by in their bikes...and as I was closing the hatch to the car I saw it...and all the happiness I'd been building up, left me:
I wouldn't be riding "la poderosa" again after all. Her back was broken.
Our money situation had so dramatically improved from the last two years that I thought I'd splurge on something for myself...and the list ran long of what I wanted. A bluray player, upgrades for my computer, a PS3...the list went on and on of all the materialistic indulgences I could possibly treat myself to that was mine and mine alone. I would share it of course, I am married after all, fifty fifty my father told me the day I was getting married...marriage is fifty fifty...and with things having improved I kept to that. I made sure my wife had everything she wanted that we had been holding back on, that the house had everything it needed, that the pets were fed and happy so when I finally selected my indulgence, it would be without guilt...and after much thought, I made my decision, "la poderosa".
"la poderosa" named in honor of a historical and film icon, had been in storage for the last three years...actually, since we'd moved here, which is almost going of four years. She has been my best friend in LA during my college years...made sure I made it to class on time, made sure I had plenty of excercise, made sure I never had to worry about the annoying parking situation at school (it was $219 a semester when I graduated). "la poderosa" as you might have guessed by now, was my bicycle:
"La Poderosa" had developed some quirks over the years which made it near impossible to keep the back tire filled with air, it needed a good tuneup, and new brakes. Afraid of what it might cost to get that all fixed, into storage she went...and then both my wife and I lost our jobs, and we got into debt trying to survive, so when we finally did start working we were barely living paycheck to paycheck...and in the dark "la poderosa" remained. So when the time came to indulge in something for the first time in a long time I thought about my bike.
So last weekend I took it to a local bike shop, told them the situation and they said they could have her up and running by that following Monday. Monday came and went, I picked it up Tuesday...and rode it to my wife's school which was a good mile away...and "la poderosa" handled beautifully. That night I place her in our utility closet, the most satisfied I'd been in a long time. "I can't wait for the weekend" I said to myself.
The week dragged, as it always does when you wait for a particular weekend with anticipation. Friday was agony, and that night, I couldn't even sleep (mainly because our dog Sarah kept waking up barking and growling every time we moved, but that is another issue). Saturday came, did some chores, made breakfast, and with all that done I went to get my bike...stopping for a brief moment as I looked at the darkening sky and felt the slightest drop of rain on my forehead....screw it...I'm riding.
I kissed my wife as I put on my helmet (safety first), ignored her as she laughed at me for the way I looked in said helmet and hit the street. For the next hour, it was pure freedom...feeling that cold air stinging my face...the sweat in my brow, the burning in my legs when I picked up speed. It was heaven.
Before long though the water droplets started falling more frequently, it was starting to rain...not wanting to get caught in a down pour so far from our house I started heading back but the rain as I rode felt good. On the path I would pass fellow riders and they would say good morning and I'd respond "yes it is". As I came to the hill that led to our apartment my legs were on fire but I decided to give it my all in the last stretch, so I shifted gears...I pedaled once, pedaled twice...and suddenly I felt a sick jerk underneath me as the chain came off it's gears...maybe I need to pedal it a bit to get them back on track I thought, so I went down the hill to the bike path and pedaled as I changed gears...the sickening jerk was still there. I did this a few times and suddenly and hard the bike quit moving...
I looked down to see the chain completely off it's gears, the derailer bent at a 90 degree angle. Shit!
I walked it the rest of the way home...the derailer was toast:
They might be able to bend it back into place I thought...worst case scenario, I need a new derailer. I was dissapointed, but hopeful...next weekend when it's fixed again I will take her out longer to make up for it.
I checked in with Jessica, my wife...told her the situation, said I'd be back soon.
I cleared some room in the car..placed the bike inside...I smiled as some kids rode by in their bikes...and as I was closing the hatch to the car I saw it...and all the happiness I'd been building up, left me:
I wouldn't be riding "la poderosa" again after all. Her back was broken.
VIEW 5 of 5 COMMENTS
zigs:
oh man.. I loved reading that story, but it had a heartbreaking ending. Sorry dude.. that totally sucks. I hope you get a new bike soon, in memory of La Poderosa.
amaeze:
I added you. 