WEDNESDAY

This is a sternwheeler wheel.

I like this foot bridge. It's about wide enough for two people to walk close together. It spans the mouth of the Hood River just before it connects to the Columbia.

Someone spent a great deal of time and trouble building this. You have to walk your bike if you want to cross with one.




Here's the view from the middle of the foot bridge.

I've been thinking of getting a bike. I haven't had one in a long, long time.






I liked the reflection on the water in this shot. It's my bass fishing pond.

My town is only 3.5 miles long end to end. You can easily walk anywhere in town. Yet we drive way too much to save time.

Here you can see how the forest fire that nearly got my home a few years back burned out the lower part of the old growth forest and left the upper portions of the trees untouched. Weird huh?

If I had a bike, I could use it to get to work and around town. Save the car for trips out of town.


My first bike, the one I taught myself how to ride, was a women's Hercules three speed. You can see a photo of part of a Hercules bike on Braja's blog LOST and FOUND in INDIA. (That photo makes me smile everytime I visit Braja.)


I wasn't tall enough to put my butt on the seat, so I had to stand up to pedal. The bike actually belonged to my bigger sister, Cinderella. SuzieQ had one exactly like it. They were 8 and 10 years older than me. Both bikes had sat for a long time collecting spiders before I came along to ride them.


I'm not sure what sort of bike to get now. Do you know anything about bikes? What do crazy old bats in your area ride?


I do not want one of those giant trike things that you see old people on. But I don't want a bike that has one of those goat skull seats on it. I think I need a nice cushie seat. We have no sidewalks in most of town and lots of pot holes and cracked spots on the Street. We do have a bike lane that goes the full legnth of town.

My worst bike crash happened a year before I earned my own bike in sixth grade by getting straight "A"s. Both of the Hercules bikes brakes had gone out by then. I was reduced to doing this weird see saw thing over the middle bar of my brother's bike, once more unable to sit on the seat.


I was at the college near my house following a friend on her bike. She could go faster. She could reach her seat. We were playing "Man From U.N.C.L.E." I was using a plastic box with a flip lid that straight pins came in for a communicator, standing up and hanging on to the handle bars with one hand.... talking into the box with my other hand.


She turned down to the rear parking area where the tarmac had deteriorated into as much gravel as street. I hit a pot hole and that was it. That rough old tarmac ate my skin like a cheese grater eats carrots. My friend was so busy flying that she did not notice my wipe out. Later she would call to see where I went.


I went home of course. I left the bike laying in the gutter. My brother went back for it when he saw me limp in. He wasn't even mad that I'd left it.


Both of my legs were skinless, as were my elbows and forearms. Even the sides of my hands were bloody and full of tiny rocks and dirt. My mother did her thing with the tweezers and a nail brush to get out the filth, then put tincture of merthiolate on it. I can't describe the sound I made. Let's say it was unearthly and leave it to your imagination.


When you get scraped that badly your body oozes clear sap. My mother, on constant guard for anything that might dare to mess up her home or furniture could not stand to have me sit anywhere like that. So I was ordered into the kitchen where I was wrapped in wax paper. I suppose the thought was that wax paper would not stick to me, while it protected the rest of the world from my ooze.


We had our annual school fair the next day. My scrapes were not quite crusted over yet. They still weeped. I went to the fair wearing wax paper. Yes, I got some good looks. But I rode the pony and won a gold fish in a coke glass. The other kids were suitably impressed with my absurd situation that they didn't even tease me.


I still have scars on my elbows and both knees from that. Twenty years or so after the wipe out, I was sitting in my living room and my leg itched so badly that I took a close look at my knee. Something black was under the surface of my skin. I got my X-acto knife and slit the skin to see what it was. A chunk of Fresno asphault fell out.


So does anyone know what sort of bike I should get? I'm thinking fat tires, good gear system. Nothing that is going to crap out when I try to shift. This will be a utiltiy bike, not a dream machine. I don't want to spend a fortune. Oh yeah and a nice fat bottom seat.

The Bicycle Song

Enjoy a bit of Queen. Then have a happy day!

Oops! Braja changed her post banner today... of all days...the Hercules bike is now gone. hahahaha Oh well.
Sorry about that.

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1-A Suldog

Return Of The Cicada Killers!