Summer is upon us.
We rolled out of bed this morning to the sound of distant thunder. Within ten minutes it was extremely loud and by minute, oh, twelve, the winds picked up and the sky exploded. Buckets of rain and another pummeling with marble size hail. It was coming down so fast and furious that the hail piled up in the corners of the patio. It sounded like buffalo stampeding across the roof. Thank goodness for the invention of 50-Year Hail Resistant Roof Shingles.
Some of you may know that I’m into mountain biking. I picked it up when The Architect first started riding off-road. He was only 13 at the time, so an adult had to go with him. Mr. Pea and I have been road bikers since we were dating, so we figured, “Hey! How hard can it be to ride in the dirt?” It’s hard. Mr. Pea hated it, I loved it. I got voted as the official chaperone for off-road biking and I’ve been tagging along with The Architect and Cherry Ames ever since. (Mr. Pea sticks to the road with Princess Pea and DirtBike.) I don’t ride with The Architect anymore because I can’t keep up and I don’t care for jumping over things. I go ride the green and blue loops while he crashes through the rest of the woods with his team.
Up until just a few weeks ago, I’ve been riding on a borrowed mountain bike. Friends of ours were rebuilding their garage/guest house, and we kept their bicycles and other outdoor stuff in our storage for the 18 month duration. I used my friend’s mountain bike that entire time. It’s a fabulous Specialized model, light and strong. Their remodel was now complete, and after cleaning up her bike, replacing the saddle and grips and buying her a new set of tires, I had to give it back. Lady Penelope, my cruiser bike, just isn’t suitable for dirt single track or climbing. I was about to lose my ride, as a new bike of a similar caliber to the Specialized cost more than I was willing to pay on a bike for myself. Seriously. A new bike? Or a month’s worth of groceries? Yeah. you get the picture. So I started stalking Craig’s List. Every day there were dozens of bikes listed, but they were either too expensive, too broken or (mostly) too big. I’m short. VERY short. But not short enough for a kid size bike.
The Architect and a friend of mine were helping in the search. The Architect hit pay dirt. he emailed me at work. “MOM!!! You HAVE to see this! It’s the right size!! It’s in the price range!!” I clicked and pulled up the link, and just about screamed out loud. I was on the phone immediately, bargaining the price down then begging them to hold the bike because I was on my way. I took an early lunch and drove to the complete other side of the Metroplex to check it out. It’s an older model, hardly ridden and in pristine condition. I handed over the cash to snag this sweetness:
Yes. It’s PINK!!!! A grown-up’s mountain bike that’s just my size with awesome shocks and hydraulic disc brakes and it’s PINK!! And the Pea Family still gets to eat this month. Which is good, because this one:
Splurge on something ridiculous. Keep the Faith.