An Encounter
A short story about a Sunday bike ride.
It’s a Sunday and I suddenly have more free time than I’ve had in recent months, and I find myself sitting on the couch pondering the rest of the day. Truthfully, I’ve spent the bulk of the day lying in bed staring at the ceiling in search of answers to veiled questions. I talk to myself, not in a weird way, just thinking out loud as one does when they’re alone. I look outside and it looks to be a beautiful day; the seasons are in a state of transition.
My roommate comes in sweaty; they recant their morning of get togethers, ending with telling me about the bikes offered on the trail just a short walk from our apartment. They leave to shower, and I begin to think about the last time I rode a bike, it’s been years at this point.
Why did I never buy that bike?
After about five years of pondering, I downloaded the app needed to unlock the bikes, grab my keys, lock up the apartment, and proceed to walk over to the trail. It’s a bit toasty, but not overwhelming, some would even argue that it’s perfect outdoor activity weather. On days like this, I like to tilt my head back and soak in the rays, you know really revel in my photosynthesis.
As I enter the parking lot, I’m greeted by an array of doggies, some on leash, while others just scamper by. I spot the bikes and make a bee line, noting the guy stretching to the left of the bikes, near a tree. We briefly make eye contact, share a quick smile, and then I proceed with my quest to unlock the bike. He clears his throat, I look over, he offers up a smile. I do the same as I’m struggling to unlock said bike.
“Are you not going to stretch?” the guy asks. I mean clearly from where I’m standing, I think it’s safe to assume that I had no intentions of stretching prior to hopping on the bike and riding off into the sunset, but I simply just look around and settle on the word “no”.
“You should really stretch, it’s not only good for the muscles but it clears the mind. Come stretch with me.” He can’t be serious, I think to myself, but being the person I am and remembering how I was just rambling the other day about wanting to mingle I decided to just give into the plot and head over to stretch, there’s plenty of people around so surely, I’m safe. We stretch in silence for what feels like forever, I’m just following his lead, and then finally it comes time for the main event, the reason I was here in the first place, it’s time to ride the bike. The guy unlocks his bike, followed by helping me unlock mine, he hops on his and motions for me to follow; at this point I feel like I’m in too deep and I might as well see where this goes. In hindsight I can see how this could be considered an error in judgement, however the writer in me is eating this shit up, thinking about how this is like living in a movie, but it’s all one take, and obviously it all worked out, but anywho...
After about a couple minutes, my muscle memory kicks in, and I feel like a kid again. The wind breezing in my hair, birds chirping, cicadas buzzing off in the distance. Personally, I didn’t mind that the trail wasn’t paved and littered with rocks, however I will die on the hill that the bikes should have tires with better traction because there were a few moments where I felt like I was just sliding around, and lowkey would’ve been embarrassed if I ate dirt.
Funny enough, a minute after thinking this, the guy falls back next to me and reiterates exactly what I was thinking to which I completely agree. See, the universe is always on my side.
Throughout the ride, the guy and I take turns leading and subtly compete to see who could peddle the fastest. Once we reached the end of the trail, we hit a residential road and continued from there. Three minutes of smooth sailing, because this stretch of the ride was on a paved road, and yes I’m talking about the ground again because that’s how much it irked me in the most mundane way, yet outside of that I also ponder how lucky I am to be able to ride a bike and enjoy the day and all its simple pleasures, I mean this is what dreams are made of, right?
Once a couple cars pass us by, we loop back around and head back to return the bikes. At one point the guy even lets out a little howl, I just chuckle to myself. This can’t be real, and yet notes of authenticity and freewill swirl in the air.
He signals to me he wants to race, so now I must haul ass as I was keeping pace a touch behind. There are times where it feels like touch and go, either of us could win, and by either, I mean me, obviously. We’re over halfway there and he pulls ahead; I literally can see the rack off in the distance. In my head I pray to my lucky stars and put the pedal to the medal and by the hair of my chin I make it to the rack a few seconds before him. All I can think to do is dismount with a smile, and a thought of “better luck next time”. We mount our bikes, following the rules of return. The guy looks at me and says, “Solid win, you’re gonna be happy you stretched.”
“I’m sure I will, thanks for the tag along”, I say, to which he responds, “Sure, yeah, and thank you, hope you enjoy the rest of your day.”
“Thanks, have a great week!” I say as I wave goodbye and proceed to head home. In a way I feel fulfilled having not only gotten a bit of exercise or soaking up some rays, but just by the sheer wholesomeness the forty something minute bike ride brought me. I’m yet again reminded why I enjoy meeting people and I’d even go as far as to say that there was a wee bit of pep in my step and a lingering thought of I’m better for it, because I decided to ride a bike on a random Sunday afternoon.