Battling Concrete

This post also has some injury photos, though less severe than the last one. Still, in case someone glancing through my feed has issues with blood, I'll make sure the first few photos in here are of bike-related t-shirts I've seen at the thrift store. Really, this whole post is a bit mood whiplash-y so you should probably sit down and keep your hands and legs inside the vehicle--this summer roller coaster is on it's way.

Places you'd probably rather drive...

That seems like a pretty harsh exchange rate

OK. So we've already talked about how I spent the end of May. Well, let's fast forward to the end of June.

Last year I was really good about biking to and from the thrift store all summer, but this year I'd been a little lazy-- and then I'd cut my finger open (you wouldn't think that would cause a problem with biking but, oh, it does) --so I hadn't really pulled out my bike yet this year. But then my car had a problem with one of the wheels, so I decided to bike until I had a chance to get it fixed. This required replacing a flat on my bike and some other tune-ups, but finally my bike was in working order and I was ready to bike to work.

Except-- I wasn't in the habit of waking up early enough to bike, so I ended up running a bit late and booking it as fast as I could go.

Which meant that I didn't notice after one turn that, instead of straightening out my handlebars, I'd turned them around 180 degrees. Meaning that the next turn had the breaks tangled up around the wheel.

 I didn't know any of that; all I knew was that suddenly my bike stopped moving--but I didn't.

Take it from me, this is terrible advice

Yeah. I kind of hit the curb.
With my face.

For a minute, I just lay on the ground, stunned. My mouth hurt and I was terrified I'd knocked out a tooth. I was bleeding all over and shaking, and my brain couldn't seem to figure out how to get me off the ground.
Luckily I was in a bike lane-- so there wasn't a lot of danger of getting hit by a car. And as usual, I was wearing my helmet.
After I'd been lying there a minute, a car pulled over and a couple got out to see if they could help. They actually offered to call an ambulance but, after a moment to calm down, I didn't think that was necessary-- not when my parents were home and living less than five minutes away. I saw that my phone had landed nearby but I couldn't quite manage to make my hands pick it up, so I asked them to call home for me.
I overheard the man's side of the conversation.
"Hi, your daughter's been in an accident. We're at the corner of _______, can you come get her?" Then he hung up.
I did have the presence of mind to realize that this was not quite enough information.
It definitely wasn't-- my parents thought I'd gotten hit by a car. My Dad took off so fast he forgot to close the garage door behind him-- I think he must have been pretty relieved to reach the intersection and see me sitting up and waving sheepishly at him while the kind (if perhaps communication challenged) couple helped pour water over my hands to clean out some of the worst of the gravel.

Incidentally, my bike wasn't damaged in all this. Yay.

Between the couple and my Dad, they managed to pick me up off the ground and put my bike in the back of the car. I could walk fine, but I realized that something was wrong with my left hand-- other than the bleeding-- because it hurt too much to open the car door.

You should see the other guy...

Anyway, after taking me home and getting me an ice pack, my parents decided to take me to the ER. Again. For the second time in roughly a month. By this point, while I was hurting a lot I felt pretty foolish-- but we wanted to check I hadn't broken something in my hand. That worried me a lot, actually-- since I play so many string instruments, an injury to my left hand could be much more problematic than one to my right.

Anyway, at the ER we were able to properly survey all the damage. I had road rash on one knee, both of my arms, my knuckles, the palm of my left hand, and my face. I'd managed to bite the inside of one lip deep enough to leave a dent. I chipped one of my front teeth-- but just a small chip, and otherwise the teeth were fine. As for my wrist-- the x-rays couldn't find anything. In retrospect I might have had a hairline fracture in one of the bones of my hand, but for all intents and purposes my wrist was just sprained. I looked like a mess, but I actually got off pretty light, all things considered. 

Fixed it

The whole thing was probably weirder for the nurse who helped me disinfect and bandage all of my road rash, actually. Back when I was a kid, I started singing "ow" to the tune of Ode to Joy when something was hurting because it made me feel a little better. (And you all wonder why I ended up going into music therapy...) Well, I ended up taking a similar tactic, singing my way through the very painful process of getting all the dirt and gravel out of my cuts. My parents started giving me requests for what songs I should do, and at one point the nurse said, "This is the strangest reaction to getting bandaged I've ever seen."

So. Anyway. I stayed home from the thrift store for a while because there is only so much you can do to move clothes around when you can't do anything with your left wrist and you're covered in enough bandages to consider dressing up like a mummy. The reactions when I went to church the next day were, ah, dramatic.

 And, well-- that was my second ER trip of the summer. I've healed pretty well; I'm still building the strength back up in my wrist but it's doing much better. I've got some lingering scars on my hands, elbow, chin, and upper lip that turn funny colors when I get cold, but otherwise I'm back to normal.


These two injury-- adventures, both at the ends of the month, made me a little wary for the end of July. I didn't get injured, though in a kind of bitter irony my grandfather passed away at the end of July.
That was... hard, but not as much as it could have been? He was 97, and his health had been declining for a while; it was definitely his time. And I've been very at peace about it; I know the plan of salvation, I know that he's with his wife and his family now and that I'll see him again. And I did get to say goodbye-- about a week before he died, when it was clear he didn't have long, those of us who could came to talk to him one last time. I didn't really know what to say, but the words of an old jazz standard came to mind so I sang it to him.

I'll be loving you, always

With a love that's true, always

When the things you've planned

Need a helping hand

I will understand, always

Always

Days may not be fair, always

That's when I'll be there, always

Not for just an hour,

Not for just a day,

Not for just a year, but

Always

 I told him I loved him and kissed him on the forehead, and he told me he loved me. And that was the last time I saw him alive. And it was hard, but I'm so grateful I had that chance to say goodbye. My grandfather was a wonderful man, and I'm glad that there's a few times towards the end when I was able to use my music to bring him some joy and some peace.

And, well, now it's the end of August. And I had a coworker at the thrift store pass away unexpectedly last week-- it's getting to where I have a bit of a complex about getting to the end of a month. Guys, this summer has been doing it's level best to eat me alive.

There's good news heading into fall, though. I've found some more clients for my business, and the orchestra teaching program is having me do twice as many classes this year-- which, after some math, led to an amazing realization.

I can quit my job at the thrift store.

Don't get me wrong, that job has been good to me-- I've made friends there, and they were incredibly willing to work with me when I had weird scheduling because of my business. But-- I've been so desperate to get out of there and do the work that I, you know, went to college to learn how to do, to be doing more than a minimum wage job I could have done in high school, to do the work that I love and that I've tried so hard to make possible.

And starting in October, it will be. I'll be able to make enough income to get by just by doing music classes and music therapy; just doing the things that I love. It still doesn't feel real. 

Of course, I still have September at the thrift store, and it'll take me a while to get through all the photos of weird items and funny t-shirts, so you'll see plenty of that. There's one more thing about working at a thrift store in September, though--Halloween starts early.

My sister keeps reminding me that I said I'd never do the costume challenge again. But, uh, look, I might have an addiction to costumes now. Seriously, I'm actually kind of sad about leaving the thrift store before October.

It definitely will be less costumes than last year; I only have the month of September to dress up (plus a couple of off-season costumes I'll share next time), and several of those days need to be simple costumes that won't be a problem for going to do music therapy stuff afterward. So it'll be something like 24 costumes total? 23? 

My only rule this year is no repeats. I'm going to be ignoring most of the suggested theme days this year (which are actually kind of lackluster this year; the management completely forgot to do them until I asked about it) so this'll just be whatever I think sounds like fun and that I have the stuff for (or can beg, borrow, or steal).

So, on this last day of August-- here's hoping for a good Autumn. Wish me luck. 

Axle Existence Failure

I really do like my bike.

My bicycle was purchased for my mission, and it was sort of unique there. You see, most of the missionaries I knew got big, bulky mountain bikes, as a defense against the many spiky, thorny plants native to Texas. My little road bike, on the other hand, is a graceful elegant thing that did not fit right on bike racks-- leading more than one bemused elder to look at my bike, hung on the back of the car at an angle suggestive of a wounded deer, and ask whether or not it was physically possible to ride the thing.

But let me tell you, I got less flat tires than any missionary I knew that brought a big dirt bike.

And the trend has continued; my bike has managed to get through a mission, college, the Boise Greenbelt, and a new daily commute to and from the thrift store with hardly any problems!

Well, OK, there was that one flat tire. And that other flat tire. And the time I needed to replace the derailleur. And the time an elder hopped on my bike and a pedal came off. And then the time when I had to disassemble the bike to fit it in a box to ship home and the pedal (reattached with a special glue that would hold until I applied "a bit of force" to break the bond) stuck, and the "bit of force" necessary turned out to be roughly 250 lbs of Tongan muscle...

OK, fine, my bike has had problems, like all vehicles.

But the problem on my way home from work the other day was a new one.

I was cutting through the park on the way home, just cruising along, when I went over a curb--and my bike just sort of collapsed.

I wasn't hurt or anything, just a bit confused. I stepped off my bike to see what had happened-- and discovered that the axle for the front wheel had disappeared. Without it, the wheel had popped right out of place.

I spent a minute feeling kind of stunned, looking around to see if the axle had fallen out somewhere nearby. No sign of it. Was it stolen? Did it just fall out? I honestly have no idea-- I don't even know how long I was biking without it.

This left me in a bit of a pickle, but luckily a kind woman driving by saw me and gave me and my wounded bike a ride home. Also lucky, the replacement axle was quite inexpensive.

But, still-- that might be the weirdest bike problem I've ever had.

Taking a Bike to a Car Show

Now, since I'm under a pretty tight budget just now, if I'm going somewhere that's not for work I bike instead of using my car. I've actually used my bike more in these past two weeks than I have since my mission.

Which works out just fine in Boise; this town is super bike friendly. In addition to the Greenbelt, a long walking/biking trail that stretches along both sides of the Boise river, there are bike lanes and bike racks everywhere. You always see people riding bikes wherever you go, and my interactions with these other bikers have been decidedly pleasant. There are even these little "bike fix-it stands" all over the place which have bike tools and a pump attached.
Of course, when I tried to actually use said pump to inflate the front tire on my bike, I had some trouble getting it to work. A toothless older gentleman who may or may not have been homeless noticed my struggling and loaned me a hand pump. A few minutes later, seeing that I was still struggling, he walked back over and said, "You're doing it wrong. It's a girl thing. Don't worry, I have sisters and they can't do it either."
Since he said this while inflating my wheel for me, I decided not to take offense. He then told me to go to Walmart and get myself a pump if I was going to live in Boise and use a bicycle. "Save money, live better. Guess where I work?"

On June 18th, I heard about a Car Show over in Garden City and thought that would be a good free activity for a Saturday afternoon. After all, I have a weakness for vintage cars. According to Google Maps, it was about a half hour bike ride to the location--a bit long for me, but not so terrible on a beautiful sunny day, and I didn't want to waste any gas. (Seriously, I go through a tank a week and I'm still only working half time. I've got clients who live out as far as Caldwell so I try to save gas wherever I can) So I took off. Again, my budget permitted me the generous sum of $2, all of which was in spare change, but I figured I could get myself a snow cone or something from a vendor. So I hopped on my bike and off I went.


The Boise Greenbelt is incredible. The river is lovely, and there are so many trees. The whole trail has a smell of green growing things, and during this time of year, the air is full of bits of cottonwood fluff that dance in the sunshine like magical fairy snow.

I tried in vain to get photos of the cottonwood fluff in the air; it's just too small and fast for my camera on my cell phone. But here's a shot of just how thick it can pile up in places--it really does look like snow.

The first part of my trek, following the Greenbelt, was very pleasant. Even though, when the wind started to kick up, I discovered that the cottonwood fluff was a little less "magical" when the wind kept blowing it into my eyes and up my nostrils.

Then I needed to leave the Greenbelt to follow some more urban areas to reach the park grounds. The wind was continuing to pick up, and my path (which was not entirely paved) kept taking me past big dirt fields. Soon the wind was blowing painful grit and sand into my eyes. I had to bike with my eyes closed, just taking occasional peeks to make sure I was still not crashing into anything. (I rode on the sidewalks instead of on the road at this point because I at least have the intelligence to not bike blind where I might be hit by cars) Although the area was flat, fighting against the wind made it feel like I was going up a steep hill. Apparently this trip was going to be harder than I thought. I was hardly going to give up two-thirds of the way there just because I was a little uncomfortable, though, so I kept going, buoyed on by a split-second glimpses of a  distant sign reading "Idaho Expo Center".

As I neared the location, however, I noticed that this wasn't a park, it was a fenced in fairgrounds area. And it occurs to me, "I will be really annoyed if it turns out you have to pay for admission."

Guess what? You have to pay for admission. And it was $10, so my little coin purse was not going to cut it.

As close as I got to the Boise Car Show

I'm not great at selfies, as I've said before, but it turns out they're even harder when the wind is blowing dirt in your eyes.

Apparently a lot of the proceeds were going to charity, so I couldn't even be that annoyed at them. Still, I was all the way out here and felt like I needed something to show for it before I turned around and went home. So I consulted my GPS and figured out that it was only a mile and a half to the nearest Sonic.

I was there an hour before happy hour, but I was still able to pay for a medium Blackberry Slush with exact change. I felt a bit sorry for whoever had to count all the pennies, though.

Half a slushie still in hand, I began the long trek back to my apartment. Except, I noticed a branch off from the sidewalk leading into the trees, and I couldn't resist following. (Much to the dismay of the GPS voice coming from the phone in my back pocket, which kept announcing to me that I needed to make a U turn. I turned it off.)

Rather to my delight, I discovered a nature trail curving around some reservoirs and a section of the river. The sign said that riding bikes was not permitted on the dirt trail, so I'd have to walk my bike or leave it behind. But the map indicated that the far end of the trail would lead me back to the Greenbelt, and I really wasn't in any hurry, so I walked my bike and enjoyed the trail.

I ended up getting a lot of photos since I was going slowly enough that I could stop and pull my phone out. And this area was pretty enough to be worth it, too:

The breeze died down so I was really able to enjoy being out in the sunshine with nothing blowing into my face

I had to use my kickstand to get my hands free to take photos since I was still carrying the slushie cup around until I found a garbage can

A bunch of houses are next to the trail. Mostly I didn't pay much attention to them, but the statue of an alligator in this backyard startled me when I caught a glimpse out of the corner of my eye

A family of geese

At the end of the nature trail, I found myself in a confusing network of bike trails that make up the Garden City portion of the Greenbelt. With less wind and after my walking break, it made for very pleasant biking. I got lost a few times--but, on the other hand, I also took a few deliberate wrong turns just to see what was on the other side of intriguing bridges. My surroundings continued to delight me even if I didn't stop quite so often to take pictures.

Ugh, I look stoned. I really am terrible at selfies. Maybe I should stick to glamour shots of my bicycle instead.

There we go

I enjoyed exploring, but after a while, I found myself attempting to mountain bike up some unpaved trails and realized that I was well and truly lost. Not to mention, the wind was picking up again and some threatening-looking clouds were rolling in, and I was getting worn out and dehydrated. I tried to use GPS to find my way back but GPS just led me into an area closed off for some construction project. Finally I ended up having to bike back out into urban areas in order to get my bearings before I finally made it back to the spot where I had left the greenbelt just a few hours ago. So, just twenty more minutes of biking to go! ...yay...

By the time I got back to my apartment, I was exhausted, saddle sore, sunburnt, dehydrated, and my eyes were redshot from having yet more dust and fluff blown into them. According to my phone, I walked two miles and biked twenty. And I didn't end up getting to oggle a single vintage car.

That being said, I'm really glad things happened the way they did. I had a wonderful time exploring the bike trails around the Boise River-- I probably had much more fun than I would have if things had gone according to plan.

That evening, though, if I knew of a place that delivered ice cream I would have ordered some, budget be darned. As it was I had hot chocolate and spent the rest of the day sitting down.