Amy and I rode more and more, and I became more and more comfortable. That’s when she told me she had planned my “graduation” ride. The goal was to continue to get more comfortable riding, and graduation would entail joining a planned group ride.
This was going to be tough for me, as I didn’t like anyone riding anywhere near me. I didn’t like anyone riding in front of me. What if they stopped fast? What if they navigated around or over something that I didn’t have the skill for, and didn’t see because they were in front of me? Nope. I didn’t like anyone riding behind me. What if I crashed – would they run me over?? What if I stopped fast – would they? Nope. So, how about riding next to me?
GOOD LORD, NO!!
What if I wobbled or fell over? What if I veered towards and hit them (steering towards people or objects was a common occurrence with me)? And unless the trail or road was REALLY wide, they were just TOO CLOSE. It was not uncommon for me to yell, “GET AWAY FROM ME!” if I was riding with Amy or with Kent. So a group ride for me would definitely be a challenge… I didn’t know about this graduation thing.
One of our earlier group rides involved riding a trail. This particular trail had more twists and turns than what I was used to, along with some road crossings and small bridges. But the real troublemaker of this trail?
Bollards.
And not just any bollards, but these particular bollards were closer together than ones I’ve dealt with before.
Bollards have been my nemesis since I’ve first come across them. Early on, even for those spaced further apart, I would stop before them, walk myself through them, then get back on my bike and start riding again.
Now, I know this seems a bit ridiculous, and I don’t disagree, but I had a real penchant for tangling with these things. I would ride up to them, then stop in a panic, afraid that I wouldn’t make it through. Or, I would attempt riding through them, while staring them down, causing me to wobble, or even to crash into them.
Sometimes I would panic, and throw out a hand, or an arm, hugging the bollard in order to stop myself from crashing into it. This terrified Amy. She told me never to do this, as my bike and myself are moving in a forward trajectory. Grabbing anything stationary, like my beloved bollards, would only serve to possibly injure, or even dislocate, my arm. I understood this. I just couldn’t stop doing it. And I just couldn’t seem to get through these damn things without wobbling, crashing, and/or stopping. I HATED them. They gave me such anxiety when I would see them coming up on the trail.
So we worked on this. “Look where you want to go,” came into play here, along with making sure to look between and through them. Obviously, I was having such trouble because I was STARING DIRECTLY AT THEM.
So, we went on this women’s group ride, led by a Trek Women’s Advocate. I was nervous. I cannot remember if the following instances happened while on one ride; it may have been over the course of two. But no matter; they all felt mortifying in a group setting.
At one point in the ride, I was towards the front of the group (I have no idea what I was doing up there – I had no business up there). Because there were some people in front of me, I didn’t always see the bollards coming in enough time to go through my usual ritual of panic, slow, wobble, stop and/or fall. And because I was riding in a group, my anxiety level was already high. So we come up on the first set of bollards, I panic, and fall onto my side and into the bushes. Everyone rode past while asking if I was OK, while I yelled assurances from the foliage.
When I managed to untangle myself from my bike, I realized my chain had dropped. Amy had stopped for me, so together we managed to get my chain back on. In the meantime, the women’s advocate had ridden back to us to make sure we were OK, as all this was taking quite a while. We assured her all was well, and our little group started riding again.
This time, Amy was riding ahead with someone, and I was riding in the back with the women’s advocate. This made me SO NERVOUS. I mean, this was a Trek Advocate! A seasoned, good rider, who knew what she was doing! And then there was me. We chatted as we rode along. Sometimes this helps me, as it gets me thinking about things other than falling, crashing into bollards, etc. But sometimes this can make me more nervous, having to multitask between focusing on riding and holding a conversation. I was just overall nervous. But I was holding my own.
And suddenly…
Bollards.
Looming ahead of us. OK. It’s fine. You can ride right between these – no problem. And I did! I made it through the set on my side of the trail! Only, as soon as I made it through to the other side, for whatever reason, I jerked my handlebars a bit, and wound up skidding across the grass on my ass! Oh god. Horrifying. The advocate collected my water bottle, since it had gone flying, and asked if I was OK. I told her I was fine, collected myself and my things, and got back on my bike. So. Embarrassing.
Amy told me later that this wasn’t a big deal. She was, in fact, somewhat glad I had fallen in front of some people! (What the hell, Amy???) She said she wanted me to see that it wasn’t a big deal. That in our heads, we think this is like, the worst thing that could happen, but no one cares! I mean, everyone cares whether or not you’re OK, but no one makes a big deal about it, or thinks you’re an idiot. You might feel like one, but no one is thinking it. My falls felt dumb and haphazard. Amy said everyone has silly falls, even the most experienced riders. We simply have to get over them and realize that they’re going to happen.
On another Trek Women’s ride, Kent was along. These rides were all-inclusive, and men were welcome, as long as they could behave themselves. But seriously though, they were welcome as long as they were supportive, honored the pace, etc. There were 6 of us on this ride. I feel like it was going fairly well…
We got to a road crossing that I felt I could navigate. It wasn’t uncommon for me to stop at the road, get off my bike, look both ways, and then run myself and my bike across the road. I did this because I often struggled to get started, and these “false starts” tended to result in my getting stuck in the middle of the road.
It’s also common for street crossings on a bike path to be equipped with…
You guessed it…
Bollards
…on both sides of the trail. I couldn’t handle the pressure of getting on my bike and riding across the street with traffic possibly coming. So I would often:
- stop before the bollards
- walk through the bollards
- look both ways
- run my bike across the road
- and walk through the bollards on the other side. Then, I’m ready to go!
So we got to this road crossing. I’m feeling pretty confident. I can totally ride across this road and through those bollards on the other side. It’s not a busy road, and the bollards are far enough apart. Off I go… but there’s a chipped curb on the other side of the street, and I have someone next to me, so I can’t just pick the lane I want. No biggie – I’m on a gravel bike, with gravel tires. I can ride over that…
Apparently not.
I took the wrong line, hit it wrong, the planets weren’t aligned – I don’t know, and I came crashing down on the other side of the road. But Amy was over there, and in the process, I took her out too! I felt myself careening towards her, felt myself thinking, “Oh my god, don’t hit Amy!”
As I came crashing down, my only concern was Amy. And her BRAND, NEW CARBON FIBER, BIKE. I mean, after all her patience and time spent teaching me to ride, what kind of thanks is that??
Off to my left and slightly behind, I heard another cyclist go down. Well, shit. There’s only 6 of us, and now, because of me, half the peloton is on the ground. HUMILIATION.
Everyone is asking if I’m OK, but I’m still on the ground apologizing to Amy and asking if she and her bike were OK. She was kinda excited because she did some kind of fancy move preventing her from falling or stepping on me (which she was worried about). She could have sat right on me for all I cared! It had been my fault, and I just wanted to know she wasn’t hurt, and her bike wasn’t damaged!
I looked at the other girl and started apologizing, but since she wasn’t that close to me, I wasn’t sure what had happened. She explained that she was still getting used to clipping in, that she hadn’t unclipped soon enough, and fell over. Later, Kent described this as her having a sympathy fall. Now ladies – I know we travel to the bathroom in packs, and that’s cool. But let’s try to keep the falling to one of us at a time…
Once I untangled myself from my bike, assessed for injuries, and someone banged my handlebars straight, we set off once again. Certainly not my proudest moment, and pretty mortifying getting others tangled up in my nonsense, but I guess we all have days like these. And you gotta learn how to get over it somehow; it just felt like I had more to get over than most!