This past weekend I visited my big brother in Sacramento. Dude has recently decided that he is some sort of cyclist, and so he had this vision of the two of us enjoying a sibling outing on the American River Parkway, cruising along on bikes. I tried to remind him that I hate bikes and nature, but he was determined to help me get over these fears. I don't know how I gave in (I am really, really terrified of riding a bike and falling into a lake teeming with fish), but somehow he got me to agree to ride a rented tandem bike. A tandem bike looks something like this, although the one we rented only seated two people:
I have far more faith in my brother's ability to maneuver a bike than in my own, so I reasoned that it would be a lot safer for me to ride a tandem bike with him than to venture out in a state park on my own bicycle. My brother assured me he would sit up front and steer and handle all the logistics of getting our machinery up all those hills, so I figured all I would have to do is pedal, and that didn't seem so bad.I don't want to talk about what went down after we agreed on this plan.
Well, okay, first of all, we looked ridiculous, especially on a trail filled with cyclists who, no joke, were all dressed like these people. I was so embarrassed that I actually forgot to be terrified of the cliffs we were zooming past, all leading down to a majestic lake that I am certain was teeming with fish. And I'm probably exaggerating when I say we were "zooming," because cyclists kept boinking their stupid bike horns and chirping "left side!" and then biking around and ahead of us. All I know is that I was constantly bracing myself for pain, the pain of falling into a lake or colliding with a tree or running into a family of bikers.
My brother was so damn encouraging through it all: "We're doing great!" he kept saying. "Keep pedaling!"
This infuriated me. Pedaling up winding hills on a tandem bike with a lake teeming with fish in my peripheral vision is a special kind of terror that I hope never to experience again. I was exhausted by a combination of the apocalyptic thoughts ricocheting about my head and the physical exertion that biking required of my wimpy body. Ah, and I almost forgot to mention that I devoured a divine Eggs Benedict about an hour earlier (you should check out the Balcony Bistro if you're ever in Folsom, California), and I was starting to feel it sloshing around my stomach.
After half an hour of trying to keep my impending heart attack at bay, I begged my brother to head back to the bike rental shop so that we could promptly forget that either of us ever thought this was a good idea. "I just want to enjoy the sun and have some ice cream," I sobbed.
And so we headed back. And about a block away from the bike rental shop, we stopped in a shaded area so that I could puke behind a tree.
All in all, a classic weekend.
