I was going to title this "I got high this weekend" or some other such nonsense with "ON A TALLBIKE! WOO!" after it. But I decided to be slightly less lame about this.
I am terrified of heights. Fuck heights, man. But this weekend I realized that Tallboy, one of the floating-around Rat Patrol club bikes was just my size. Who knew? It's also black and red, which is an added bonus. Also added boners.
Anyway, I rode it home with Rob on Friday night. It was fairly easy, as there were almost no cars on the road and riding such a short tall bike is much easier and less scary for me. I learned how to pace myself so that I only rarely have to dismount at lights. I learned that footbraking isn't that hard, however I have no faith in these thin-soled shoes for long-term use.
I had to make a quick trip to the store, so I decided to try actually biking on the street in the daytime. It was really easy and I didn't get too many weird comments. Eventually, it was time for Raven's potluck. Rob said he would help me work on the bike at the Chop Shop after, so we rode all the way to freaking Ravenswood from my house.
The bike was wobbly when I would speed up or slow down too much, and once we got to the house, I noticed that the front wheel was touching one side of the fork. Rob noticed the bolt wasn't tightened on one side. So I had ridden the night before, that day, and then almost 6 more miles on a bike that could have killed me. Clearly I am awesome.
The party was fun, but we had to leave early to work on the bike. I ended up replacing the crankset, handlebars, seat, and pedals. I painted the new handlebars white. John really likes it.
We rode home in additional style and passed out after horrible waffle peanut butter and jelly sammiches. You would think bread made of waffles would be good, but old waffles not so much.