but i never went to bike academy

Hello my name is Aimee and this is a real life adventure....

... or disaster, rather.

Let me just preface this by saying that I believe individuals should have to go to a bike riding school, similar to driving school in order to own a bike. I would also like to point out that if this were a requirement, I would not be graduating from bike academy for quite some time.

This afternoon my suite mate and close friend, Sara and I decided to grab a coffee from Dutch Bros. one of the best coffee places in the vicinity of the Tempe Campus. As of late Sara and I have become quite consumed with bike riding, so naturally we hopped on our beach cruisers and headed down to the irresistible coffee stand. The journey there was a successful one and the insanity didn't start until after I received my skinny, iced, raspberry white chocolate mocha.

As already mentioned I am not too confident in my bike riding skills, so I was extremely nervous to be biking with one hand (the other was being used to hold my AMAZING coffee). As I was preceding down Rural road to the light rail stop I was almost hit by a car turning right into a parking lot. After lots of swerving and almost falling twice I continued upright to the light rail station. It was then I learned the valuable lesson that individuals driving cars with their windows up cannot hear my shrieks of fear, or me shouting obscenities after catching my balance. (Honestly, this may be for the best.)

I was screeching into the light rail station at the exact moment the light rail was. Unfortunately for me this meant I would have no time to lock up my bike and would have to take it with me on the metro if I wanted to be on time. I would like to interject here and confide with you that the muscles in my arms are nonexistent. If you have been on the light rail you already know that bikes are hung up on the metro. Since I have no upper body strength I cannot lift my bike onto the rack and so I must sit my bicycle in front of me. This seems to annoy most of the passengers in my vicinity, especially when there is room for my bike on the rack.

I have never been accused of being couth and graceful. It was quite difficult for me to get myself, my large sorority bag, my delicious coffee, and my beach cruiser situated on the fairly busy light rail car. After three minutes of moving and shuffling while making awkward faces I was settled.

(In bike academy you would learn how to do things with your bicycle like hang it from tricky racks on the metro and set it in confusing bike holders on the bus.)

Two or three stops after I had joined the mass transit headed downtown, others with bikes joined us. I was terribly embarrassed when a girl about half my size got on with her insanely cool road bike (it had zebra print handlebars which matched her red shoes and indie chic look) and lifted it into the bike rack. Not only did I feel even more ridiculous for not being able to put my bike with its other counterparts, I now had the attention of the entire car who undoubtedly were wondering why on earth I couldn't put my bike away as easily as her.

Somewhere between the 44th Street and Washington and the 24th Street and Washington I decided that putting my ipod on would be a good idea. Which would have been fine if I was organized. I was bobbing my head and swaying my shoulders to the sound of Nizlopi when I came to my stop. As I was making my much awaited exit from the metro my headphone cords caught on one of the bikes hanging in the ever-defeating bike rack. I didn't notice this until my breathing became restricted and I slammed my head into the bike seat of yet another hanging bike. The gentleman (which he was indeed not) across from me thought he would help me and my cruiser along by giving me a slight shove in the direction toward the door.

My oxygen flow came back after my headphone popped out of my ear allowing me to stumble out of the light rail car, barely avoiding two pedestrians and a small child. (At bike academy they would teach everyone that ipods and bicycles don't mix.)

I am now dreading the ride home tonight, as I will have to travel back to Tempe with my beach cruiser. Even if I make a fool of myself and get into several near death experiences I will celebrate (with Nizlopi, and my paper crown) upon arrival at Adelphi. Like Nizlopi says...

It's time to throw away your doubt
Throw away your blues
Wake up in the morning
Tear up the news

(I will also look up some information on a bike academy!)