why i will rocket into the sunset...

yesterday i got yelled at by an old man. well, maybe not so much yelled at as lectured at, but it's all the same with those codgers because they're senile and can't hear very well, so it always sounds like they're shouting at you. so what merited this undue discourse? i’ll tell you what! i, in all of my good schoolgirl glory, was innocently riding away from my poetry and poetics class, when all of a sudden, i happened upon a curb. now this was no small matter: the curb was an astounding six inches high – enough to do some real damage. but being the adventurous young lass that i am, and furthermore, having no other way to go on my merry way without bypassing this staggering son-of-a-bitch, i decided to take my chances. i rode my bike off of the small giant. now, i know what you’re thinking. “that girl’s an idiot. she could have done a number on herself, either flying head-over-heels across the top of her handlebars, launching herself into a nearby bush, or worse, landing in front of another biker and causing the mother of all bike crashes.” but please, rest assured that i knew what i was getting myself into. in fact, i like to consider myself quite the, uh, “curb expert.” moreover, since my brother and i were about six and eight years old, respectively, we have been conquering bike jumps, flights of stairs, and rough terrain on rocky mountain trails. now i’m not gonna lie and say this curb wasn’t a toughy – i mean, no matter how big of a baller you are on a bike, there will always be bumps (and curbs) in the road to keep you in check, but i had this one handled. my worst fears were put to rest when i made it through the episode, alive and pedaling. so as i was riding away from my small personal victory, i heard a voice coming up behind me on my left. now you would think that this would be a voice of concern for my well being, or perhaps even a voice tinged with anger at the notion that i could have barreled into its possessor. but no, it was a self-righteous, somewhat impatient tone, curtly declaring, “yurr going to brrreak yurr spokes thet waay.” dear lord, i thought, as i quickly whipped my head around, frantically searching for the origin of that outlandish sound. “whaaa?” i replied. my stately, gray headed old friend rode into view. “if you do thet, yurr going to brreak yurr spokes. you do not want the prressure like thet.” judging by the fact that he had a funny accent and sported a messenger bag, i figured he was from somewhere in eastern europe. “ah. thank you sir. you have a nice day now. don’t go riding your bike off of a giant rock face because you were too busy playing road monitor!” (i didn’t really say that.) and with that, he sped by, riding off into the distance like a good sameritan, his outline enfolded by the vastness of the horizon as it illuminated him – him that had taught me a lesson. i couldn’t help but bask in the beauty of this new knowledge that had so fleetingly been imparted to me. you learn something new every day right, but this…this was profound. i never imagined that when i rode off of that six inch embankment, that moments later i would be in the presence of such wisdom and generosity.

let’s be honest though – my bike’s a complete beater, another fine product of the stanford bike shop. on top of the thousands of dollars that i’m expected to fork out each year for tuition, i’m compelled to come up with another couple hundred to purchase the masterpiece that will serve as the vehicle for my academic escapades for four years. now i’m not making any value judgments, but i find it interesting that the schmucks at our fine bicycle establishment have the audacity to bestow me with something that has rusted gears that hardly work, a lock that sticks, and a light that is shoddily duct taped onto the handle bars. (said light was stolen sometime last year.) but i can handle that. i’m just sayin…but spokes! now spokes are a thing to be treasured. in fact, it is the shiny metal pieces of sexiness that define my bicycle, damnit! seriously, people, where would i be without spokes. that’s right. nowhere. i would be done for. incapacitated. unable to traverse one of the world’s largest college campuses. before, i had been but an ignorant fool, disregarding the value of spokes, but thanks to the remarks of this slavic prodigy, there was a chance i was going to be able to make it in the world. i slowly and pensively pedaled on into the vast, foreboding universe, stopping only once to soar off of the biggest, baddest bike jump i could find…