Sprooiiinngg

• Right when I got on the bike path on Friday, there was an unforeseen mechanical event. The great big silver spring that holds up half the bike seat (much as, feminist posters of my youth once insisted, women hold up half the sky) had sprung loose and rattled off the path into the fallen leaves. It's true that the seat had already taken a notable drop in back the day before. It's adjustable, I thought I just needed to figure out how to adjust it. But, although I found the spring (which, as I've mentioned, is silver and huge), I couldn't find the nut, and there were evidently other parts missing. I rode all the way to Florence on a half secured, lopsided seat to the bike shop, where the guy graciously replaced it with a new seat.
  
  I also brought a red bike helmet with an aerodynamic design for which I have no need, since the trike and I are not doing the moving sleekly through space thing at all. And I bought a pump with a gauge. The guy kind of rolled his eyes when I made him explain how the pump worked, but he had put the visor on the helmet backwards, so it stuck inward, jabbing my skull, instead of outward, so I didn't take the eye rolling hard.



• Then I proceeded to my original destination, the pool at the Y, which is its own story.



• Today I rode over heaps and heaps of wet, brown, fallen leaves. I rode home from the pool with my hair wet, but didn't mind the cold.