Look, ma, no hands

I wish someone would explain to me why people can't be bothered to pay attention to anyone outside their own little universe. I can't count on two hands the groups of people who stopped on the trail today smack in the middle, strung across the entire path or rode two and three abreast. And didn't yield until the last minute as I approached, causing me to have to brake, swerve and swear. Sure, I'm more sensitive to it because I'm still a bit wobbly on the new bike and having to constantly slow down or swerve or hug the absolute side for fear of crashing into someone is nerve-wracking. And I can understand the occasional little kid wandering into my path, or plain not being able to control her bike all that well or someone hopping a rut. But common courtesy tells you that you have to share the path with other people. If cars acted like that on roads, we'd sink into anarchy, the government would collapse, your dog would refuse to take you on walks and you would have a grandson with a dog collar. Don't have a grandson with a dog collar. OK, I'm done now.

Today's ride: Sunday, March 18. Pump House to Boston, 24 miles roundtrip. Tires hit the road at 12:18. In Boston at 1:09. Back to my car at 2:25. Highlight: Topping 20mph on a downhill without toppling over.

Thought I'd take The Rocket for a little jaunt down to Boston town and introduce her to Dead Man's Hollow. It's a ride I know well, primarily flat and paved, but has several bridge ramps, a couple of uphill sections, two bridges where I'd have to ride narrow sidewalks, and some short road stretches in McKeesport. In other words, a bit of variety and a chance to gauge how ready I am for the rigors of road rides, sharing busier paths with other bikers, hikers and dog walkers, and tackling some hills. The answer: Not ready for everything, but I'm getting there. My feet still fly off the pedals when I go downhill unless I position the pedals properly, with my left foot down at 6-7 o'clock and my right foot at 12-1 o'clock. I guess because my feet are elevated out in front of me instead of being close in to my body, they act like frenzied extremities with a life of their own. The other thing I'm slowly learning is having enough control and balance that I can scratch my nose without crashing. Seriously, it's like water torture -- when I think about the fact that I can't take either hand off the handlebars for even a split second, then all of a sudden my nose itches, my hair is in my eyes or mouth, the top of my head feels wonky under my helmet. But I was able to scratch my nose three or four times today -- Look ma, no hands!