Falling Through the Tracks
Sunday is a busy day for me. I wake up early, assist at Downward Dog 'til 11am, and then I have to teach at another studio by noon.
Beause of the time crunch and my chronic habit of dallying just a bit too long, I've been riding Hil's shiny new bike to get from place to place. Her bike's a lean, mean commuting machine with skinny tires that spin nice and fast.
The trouble with skinny tires though is that they don't have much grip. Especially on metal. As you can see from the above photo, bike commuting in TO is exciting . Lots of cars, mean cabbies, and as an added bonus, the treacherous tracks for the streetcars.
Tracks that are just wide enough to swallow a skinny tire.
I was bombing down Bathurst trying to beat the light onto Queen St. In retrospect, that wasn't very smart. Bathurst and Queen is chock-a-block laced with street car tracks and to my horror, I saw my front wheel migrate into one of said tracks.
It was all over by then.
Sliding on my side into the intersection. The collective gasp of pedestrians on the corner, "Are you okay?!?" I pick myself up, ego wounded and covered in a brown slime of dirty snow and pollution.
A guy comes up and goes, "Dude. Rain and snow man. Rain and snow." (I'm assuming he's referring to the tracks as opposed to telling me about the last few days weather.
I slowly pedal the last few blocks to work. Dirty.
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