Monday, July 19, 2010

The Ride That Didn’t Happen And The Ride That Shouldn’t Have Happened

Last Friday, I received an impromptu lunch invitation to my Uncle and Aunt’s place. My cousin from New Jersey was visiting with her husband and kids and we haven’t seen each other for a very long time. When I got the call from my aunt, I had just taken my bike out to the street to start riding. Then I thought, why don’t I just ride my bike to their house so I can hit two birds with one stone: get my workout in plus meet my relatives. So I started riding due east down Del Amo boulevard towards Cerritos. After a block, reality set in. Because this was just my second ride, I wasn’t sure it was a good idea to ride that far. Besides, if and when I got there, I still had to ride back home afterwards. So after another block, I turned around and just finished the rest of my workout in the neighborhood I rode in a couple of days prior. The good thing was that it was relatively early and I had enough time after the ride to take a shower, change, and make it in time for lunch. Besides, my cousin requested that I bring my karaoke machine, and if I rode my bike, I wouldn’t have been able to do so. I had a great visit with my relatives which lasted until the evening. If I had ridden my bike there, I would have been in trouble because I didn’t have head and tail lights. And we wouldn’t have subjected everyone else to our horrible karaoke singing.
Did you know that a bicycle license is required in California? Not to drive a bike, but to own it. In the city of Long Beach, you can get one from any fire station, but only on weekends from 9 a.m. to 12 noon. So that’s what I did Saturday morning. I wasn’t sure if I had to bring my bike along or just a proof of purchase. I first showed up at the fire station without my bike and they informed me that I needed to bring it so they can attach the tags. So I went back home to get the bike and I just rode it back to the fire station. One of the firefighters took all the necessary information: type of bike, brand, model, and serial number, after which they attached two tags on the seatpost tube. All these for a $3.00 fee.
That short ride to and from the fire station didn’t do me good though. While racing the traffic light to cross an intersection, I strained a muscle on my outer left thigh and every time I make my first couple of pedal strokes, it hurt like crazy. I am beginning to feel like Manny freaking Ramirez of the L.A. Dodgers who is frequently injured. I may even get myself some fake dreadlocks.

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