Death Cry of Choice, Part 2
0 comment Monday, July 7, 2014 |
It was 11 degrees this morning and snowing when I left my house. About five blocks into my ride, I was cursing myself for not wearing a gaiter. You know, the snow hits your face, and then it melts, and then the wind freezes it, you start whining, etc. Not a bad ride, though. I actually hit a couple of lights, and was pretty well in control on my mountain bike. Until I got to the intersection of Colfax and Cheyenne Place right in front of my office, where I usually turn onto the sidewalk to cut into our parking garage.
Just as I hit the brakes, my back end wobbled enough to send my heart into my throat, as I was going a little too fast. It was here that I let out a brand new death cry, purely reaction: A high-pitched "wooooo," more like I was having fun on my unsteady bike, not scared shitless. This may have been only so the guy smoking a cigarette outside the building could see that I was, in fact, enjoying myself on my commute to work.
There wasn't even ice on the road, that I could see. I'm not sure what happened.