I Forgot How to Ride a Bicycle

For my birthday last year, I treated myself to a “vacation” to Seattle. The trip itself had many purposes, most of which I accomplished. There were unintended purposes also accomplished and on the whole, the trip was something I needed to do.

One beautiful Saturday afternoon, my two friends from college and I took a bus from Ballard to downtown to catch a Mariners game. Getting there was a bit of a debacle, which was further compounded by forgetting that you can’t take a purse into a Stadium. It was like the Pandemic erased what used to be deeply ingrained common knowledge. Fortunately, they sell plastic purses and rent lockers outside. Unfortunately, the cost of the lockers wasn’t advertised and I had post-vacation credit card sticker shock about the locker. I now own three plastic purses.

Once we got everything into lockers and my fabulous new purse, we purchased tickets on the street and went inside. The elderly gentleman checking bags insisted on me opening every smaller bag inside: I keep my regular purse organized this way and I happened to have a need to carry feminine products that day, (along with my usual bag of medicine, bag of eye care items, bag of makeup, bag of sanitizer wipes & masks, and … writing this made me realize how many little bags I carry around just to “survive” an outing). I chose the bag of feminine products first and intentionally. After seeing the contents, he simply asked me to move my scarf around instead of asking me to open more of my little bags. That’s one way to expedite the process.

The guys went to get food and I went to find alcohol. We planned to meet at the seats. This was a terrible plan for me, because I’m horrible with directions. I went to at least three incorrect places, asked for help from Stadium volunteers, and sent a few SOS texts that didn’t always push through, before finding the correct seats and my friends.

It was the most beautiful, sunny, perfect day for a baseball game. I let the guys, who I’ll call B and M, sit next to each other, and I quietly alternated watching the game, watching the people, and taking pictures.

(Pic of Mariners Game by me)

I could sense M was grumpy. He’d been in a mood all day. I have a candid photo of him on the bus depicting his state perfectly but I’d never post it publicly. He told us he was leaving early and wouldn’t be going with me and B to our post-game adventures. Neither of us are dumb enough to protest. M left and we decided to leave shortly after to beat the crowd to the lockers and head over to the Wheel for our “VIP Experience.”

Looking at our iPhones, we quickly realized the distance was walkable but it might take too long. B suggested we rent Lime Bikes. He asked if I’d ever used one. “No, but I’m willing,” I responded “what about helmets?” I inquired. Apparently helmets aren’t a thing. We found two charged bikes, I installed the app on my phone, and off we went. Kind of. B was ahead of me. The crowd of pedestrian foot traffic leaving the game was thick. A thousand thoughts ran through my mind, as I stopped and started again and again, wobbly on the bike.

The first incident occurred fairly quickly. I lost control of the bike and clipped a pedestrian. At this point, I’d lost my visual on B altogether. I managed to stop, apologize profusely to the woman I hit, and quickly get back on to try to find B. I had no idea where I was going, how to operate the bike safely, and I certainly couldn’t ride the bike and use my phone at the same time. I should’ve just stopped there completely, but I rode a bit further, still unsteady and increasingly uncomfortable with my riding skills, only stopping to use my phone to check the map and message B.

Then the next adverse incident: I was trying to ride on a sidewalk as the crowds were mostly walking on a street that was blocked off for regular traffic. Wobbling along, I nearly struck a wall, overcorrected, and nearly struck a parked car. All of that happened in from of Seattle’s finest. I had 2 drink at the game. I might’ve had a gummy as well. I wasn’t intoxicated to the point of impairment, but the whole thing scared me just enough to do what I should’ve done much sooner: I pulled off into an alcove, got off the bike, and messaged B: “I forgot how to ride a bike, where are you?”

I walked to his location and ordered an Uber. I apologized to B and my adrenaline finally wore off after 30 minutes or so. The Uber dropped us off directly at the entrance to the Pier where the Wheel is. In hindsight, it would’ve been a massive error in judgment to try to ride the bikes there even if I had been an expert bike rider.

I realized I haven’t ridden a bicycle of any kind in more years than I could recall. I’m sure I would remember quickly if I tried on a regular bike, wearing a helmet, in a neighborhood or park. Making the discovery on an electric bike on crowded streets in a city I’d never been to, was an unforgettable and unfortunate way to learn: I forgot how to ride a bicycle.