Mostly it was a cinch, making the inspiration for the cliche obvious. And when it wasn't ... as Regina pointed out, maybe I was just getting my snafus out of the way early on.
For instance, I was nervous about using a bike lane for the first few miles of my first ride of the season. Fortunately, traffic was fairly light and didn't scare me onto the trails forever.
But while on a trail, I got too distracted by a huge chunk of glass in an intersection with the road and forgot to watch turning traffic. The car that I headed obliviously toward was going slowly enough — or cautiously enough — that we had more of an awkward standoff than a close call, thankfully.
Maybe it just served to startle me straight, so that hours later, I was fully expecting a pickup truck to completely blow a red light and just waited on my side of the intersection.
|Sharing the road on St. Patrick's Day might not have been the best idea, in retrospect. But it saved us about three or four miles on the return.|
One thing I didn't count on, though, was how the still-early-spring temperatures would affect my toes. I wound up falling into a crosswalk light post because my slightly numb feet couldn't catch the ground fast enough.
It turns out I still have some strength, because I didn't whine too much about the small hills we encountered, the time flew, and I barely noticed any soreness the next day.
What I don't have, though, is the proper equipment for riding at night anymore. My taillight was sacrificed to RAGBRAI, and the miner's headlamp I wear around my waist could use help lighting the way in front of me, too.
All in all, it was a great way to celebrate safely and break the ice on getting back into biking.