Relatively Minor
Laughter does not have to come from a major source. It could indeed be … relatively minor.
Over the weekend, I decided to take my flashy red Fuji mountain bike out for a spin in the great outdoors. Before I could hit the road, I had to navigate around a gray Fat Tire bike, a three-wheel half-bike, and a Schwinn Airdyne exercise bike in my garage. After finally wiggling my way out, I opened the hatch of my trusty Kia Soul, which had a license plate that could make anyone chuckle.
But getting my two-wheeler into the back of the car was no easy feat. It took one lift, three twists, and two choice words before I could get the bike in just right. I was so happy with myself that I did a little dance in the driveway.
I headed east to check out the Great Western Trail from the Martensdale trailhead. This smooth asphalt trail was built on a former section of the Chicago Great Western Railroad, spanning 16.5 miles north to the outskirts of the Des Moines suburbs.
When I arrived, I took my bike out of the trunk and tried to steady it on the concrete. But I ran into a little hiccup when I couldn’t move the front tire forward to lower the kickstand. After a few attempts, I realized that the front wheel had spun backward. A quick fix and I was ready to hit the trail.
As I pedaled along, I encountered lots of families out walking their dogs, other cyclists in their fancy form-fitting athletic gear, and a whole bunch of birds.
The dog walkers were friendly and returned my greeting with a wave. The cyclists followed the tradition and announced their arrival with an “on your left” as they passed me.
But the birds? Let’s just say that they made me feel like I was in a scene from that classic Alfred Hitchcock movie. The starlings were everywhere, chattering away in the nearby trees. But luckily, they didn’t decide to go rogue and attack me, so I completed my 20-mile adventure without a scratch.
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