Chapter Eight - "I Want To Ride My Bicycle"

I could almost smell the bacon as I got ready for placement this morning, looking forward to the £3 cooked breakfast and the 40p porridge at the hospital. After grabbing some toast to keep me going I headed out of the door - with my new bike in tow. Let me explain.


The bike story ~ 14th-20th May

Now I'd been thinking about getting a bike for a week or so, after I discovered the path to the hospital from the station went alongside a cycle route. I figured it would help speed up my journey time (which, aided by a nifty shortcut now takes thirty minutes, instead of forty). The only problem was... no bike. One of my supervisors last week suggested I looked in the local recycling centre (no pun intended) to see if I could find a cheap deal, so I'd been texting friends asking them to look out for me.

Then, seemingly out of the blue one of the guys at Church came to me and said "I have a bike that I don't need". It turned out he'd bought it to travel to work, and had only used it twice before it got a puncture, after which he'd given up on the idea. He let me have it cheaply (£20), throwing in accessories such as a helmet, water-bottle and brand new lights (which were actually an additional £20, but still a bargain considering the bike was such a great deal). A big thanks to CR! My prayers were answered, and I left feeling very positive. All glory to God for his gifts.

I collected the bike on Tuesday evening after work, only to find it was the exact same model as DCT's, my coursemate! I hoped there was a way we could tell them apart in future. The puncture hadn't been fixed at this point, so I had to wheel it all the way back home. But that didn't matter; I now had a bike. On to phase two - riding it!

After checking over the punctured tyre it turned out there was in fact no puncture, meaning the bike was in better condition than I'd thought. Albeit apart from the slight issue with the front brakes. I seem to have two options when it comes to the front brakes on this bike: too close, and therefore squeaky and overly obstructive; or too far away, and therefore totally ineffective. I opted for the totally ineffective choice.


Back to the present...

So that's where I'm at currently. This morning I pushed the bike down the hill to the station - I felt conscious of the cars on the road, and the fact that I was relatively new to this bike-related environment, hence I kept both feet firmly on the pavement. After buying my ticket I hauled it up the steps to the walkway, catching the eye of the lady at the ticket-barrier. She proceeded to see me (I thought), and opened one of the smaller gates. Thinking that the bike was narrow (at this point I'd failed to take the handlebars into account) I proceeded to wheel the bike through, only to get it wedged somewhat in the gap. At this point the lady was rather angrily raising her voice at me. It only occured to me what she was saying when I realised that I'd inadvertently blocked the man coming the other way from getting out. ("Excuse me sir, this is an exit only!" if you're curious) She opened the larger gate up, and I flashed my ticket while she gave me some sort of an earful about 'not being able to take bikes through there'. I made a mental note and tried to bluff something about it being too early in the morning (six thirty), before I moved on my way, sincerely hoping that she wouldn't be on duty again when I returned in the evening.

I waited on the platform watching the others coming and going (some also with bicycles), wondering what I'd managed to get myself into and hoping the journey wouldn't turn into some nightmare. It's interesting to compare one's attitude to catching a train when having a bike, to one's attitude without; with a bicycle you converse a lot more with your fellow passengers, asking questions like "When are you getting off?" (which would normally be considered nosey) and cringing when your bike accidentally falls over in the middle of the carriage causing people to turn around and stare, even though they know they never had a bike to begin with. (Actually, I made the last bit up, although admittedly my bike did fall over.)

I successfully exited at my station and proceeded to push the bike up the initial hill before the cycle path began. It was here that I intended to ride for the first time. I put on my helmet, straddled the bike and wobbled. Feeling conscious of the passing cars and pedestrians I tried to move forwards, but was so ungainly that I thought better of it, dismounted and returned to walking. If anyone came up to ask me why I was pushing my bike I had a response planned. "The front brakes are slightly dodgy, and a friend at work said he'd fix them for me if I brought my bike in." No-one asked.

There were certain points on the journey (especially those areas obscured from the road) where I felt confident enough to attempt to ride. However I had trouble getting my balance and again decided to push, rather than annoy commuters with my swerving around. I'm sure some people were laughing but I moved on hastily, trying not to feel too bad.

When I arrived at the hospital I chained up the bike and headed inside for the cooked breakfast. DCT had overslept and so wouldn't be joining us this time. Then I headed along to my department. The day promised to be more productive than yesterday. (I'd arrived to find that the scanner was being serviced from 9am to 4pm, but as no-one had told me the best idea was to go back home.) One of the highlights for me was at 4:15 when I finally got to experience the MRI scanner first hand! I always thought I had a magnetic personality!

After work I wheeled the bike home again, this time with fewer glitches. Having the bike must've been beneficial in parts as I travelled to the station fast enough to get the earlier train. When I disembarked in Surbiton I didn't feel capable of riding the bike up the hill. I continued to push it, in frustration that I was avoiding riding it, and stopped halfway up to check my phone - a text to say the living room was infested with ants. Taking a detour via a shop (and failing to buy any ant-killer) I arrived home annoyed with the bike, and wondering if indeed it had been worth all the effort. Was I better of walking? I resolved not to let it get the better of me and decided I'd cycle along the road later on for practice. (After about two or three times going along a neighbouring street I decided to cycle home as I figured people might be wondering what I was up to. I was suspiciously riding around in circles in the middle of the road, and they may have thought I was lost - or strange.)

Well, I'm not going to be beaten. I will master the bike eventually, and I resolve to ride again tomorrow, or the next day, or the day after...