The freedom of the road ...

It has been a long time since I truly felt comfortable on a bicycle ... I can remember vividly the day that changed ...

I was coming home from work, I had borrowed my brothers bike. I had actually asked this time, and he had actually said - "Sure ..."

It was one of those rainy afternoons ... our boss sent us home early. I set off on the 8 block ride home thinking about getting something to eat and seeing what my friends were up to that night ... Then POW ... suddenly I found myself flying over the hood of a green 72 Barricuda ... I slammed into the pavement, rolled and out of the corner of my eye saw the hulking form of a City Bus bearing down on me ...

I rolled out of the way and up on to the grass along the side of the road ... my knees were throbbing, my back was aching, but I was alive ...

The bus driver was the first person to reach me ... "Stay there son," he said, "I'll call for help ..."

I can remember the scurry of people all around me, and in a few minutes the police arrived. It was one of my old soccer coaches, a Brit named Brian - "What have got here then?" he asked in cockney accent, "Oh Shawn," he seemed to be laughing ... "Had a wee bit a trouble?" he stated more then asking.

He told me to take it easy, an ambulance was on its way, and I'd be fine ...

"How's the bike?" I asked weakly, my mind raising at what my older brother was going to do to me for trashing his bike.

"Let's not worry about the bike right now," Brian said, "let's just worry about you ..."

I'm still not sure what he meant, but I interpreted it as terminal for both the bike AND me ... I might not die of my injuries, but from the mouth of a cop I realized that when my brother saw his bike I would die a slow and painful death ... I moaned ...

In time the ambulance arrived. I wanted to get up and walk to it. The attendants wouldn't let me. Instead they lifted me on to the stretcher and carried me to the back of the ambulance. We then headed off to the office - no sirens. That's always a good sign ... Along the way the attendent in the back with me asked me my name, my address, my age, what day it was and so forth - repeatedly ...

After the third round I said - "is there something wrong with your memory?"

"Why?" he asked looking up from his clipboard.

"Because you keep asking me the same questions over and over, and it's getting really annoying." I replied trying to look out the tiny window to my right.

"Well, I just a couple more spaces to fill in," he said as he looked down. He then asked me AGAIN what my name was ...

"Let me give you my wallet," I offered reaching down to my jeans ... "oh damned," I muttered.

"What's wrong?" the attendent asked.

"The cop stole my wallet," I commented, he asked to see it and took it.

"I think he'll bring it back," the attendent laughed.

"He better," I snapped as I turned to look out the little window (we were getting close to the hospital), "or I'll press charges ... and I KNOW how much money was in it ..."

The attendent laughed and he looked up at the driver who snorted with laughter.

Later, as I was waiting for my mom to come and pick me up and take me home from the hospital Brian stepped into the hospital room.

"Hiya," he said with a smile.

I had had enough of hospitals and being flat on my back. I snapped, "Thief,"

Brian laughed. "I only took enough to get me coffee and donuts," he offered as he held out my wallet taking a glance inside as he handed it to me, "nothing else in there interested me ..."

I smiled, "a coffee and a donut would be okay, it would be the least I could do for you ..." I offered with a laugh. We chatted for awhile before my mom arrived ...

Mom came in the room and took me home. It was tough getting across to the parking lot and into the car. The impact of the accident was my KNEES on the front passenger side fender of the 72 Cuda. Do you know how thick the metal is on the front fender of a 72 CUDA????? It's thick enough to trash the knees of a 16 year old boy ... trust me ... I can show you !!!!

It took weeks before I could walk properly ... it took months for my knees to stop throbbing ... and it took years ... years and years and years ... to again get comfortable on a bike ...

When I was a teen, before I got my drivers license I would hop on my bike and ride for hours ... My friends and I roamed all over town ... we covered dozens of kilometres each day ... we road on streets, trails, paths and across fields ... we pedalled like madmen ... always in a hurry to get somewhere, but never really stopping anywhere ... It was glorious ...

Then one fall day ... it changed and I became much more cautious ...

But now, lately - this past summer I've rediscovered the incredible joy that comes with biking ... I've been up and down all the trails around the bison enclosure, I've been across the dam countless times, I've been to Grey Owl's cabin and back, I've pedalled along Clear Lake ... I've pedalled on grass and gravel and pavement ... I've been alone and with my family ... It has been glorious ...

I'll be sorry to see the biking season come to an end ... but I will be out early next year ... and doing it all over again ... There is something delightful about biking ... I've missed it ... and I'm glad I found it again before it was too late ...

Oh, and in case you're wondering about my brother's bike ... it was trashed - gone - toast - a complete write off ... But I THANKFULLY, had asked before I took it ... so he couldn't really blame me ... He even fixed the front of the car that hit me ... and all was forgiven when the isurance cut him a cheque to replace his CCM Targa with a brand new Nishiki ... a bike I WAS NEVER allowed to borrow ... Gotta love older brothers !!!