Monday, May 18, 2015

It Really Is A Miracle I Am Here to Tell The Tale.

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10 speed bikes were a big deal for us.  Prior to that we had bikes like the old 50's and 60's movies.  That is because we grew up in the 50's and 60's.

I never wanted a girls bike ... those were for girls.

I knew how to lift my leg over a bar.  I had skills.

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We used jar rings to hold our pant legs in so they would not get caught in the chain.   Bell bottoms were big and bike gear ... come on ... we were fighting to be able to wear a two piece to the beach.  We knew we had bodies and were anxious to use them but our parents were still pretending clothes were only effective if they removed any curiosity about what was underneath.  They took pride in converting tents into dresses.  They had a meeting of all the parents in the whole world and they all agreed to pretend there was no such thing as sex.

It was a big waste of time, a circus tent, and homemade cookies.  We all knew our parents weren't having sex because they already had two kids.  There was simply no point anymore.

You would think someone would have cottoned on to the idea of faking that they were having difficulty and saying they needed to stay after school for extra practice.  But no ... most of them were pregnant prior to the wedding.  Keeners. 

That is why so many of those old wedding pictures has a stern guy standing off to the side with his hands behind his back.  Guess which hand has the shotgun?

Preventing pregnancy might have allowed them to actually have sex 3 or 4 times before retiring to complete denial and a life of dressing in the dark.

I did not get skimpy bike gear.  I had to settle on looking cool and carrying off a jar ring with attitude.  I rode my bike to school - which was miles and miles down the highway from us.  I passed the other kids on their horses and laughed hysterically at them and called them "old timers."  OK that didn't really happen but I imagined it would . . . if I could.   20 miles is a bit much to do ... maybe for a rock concert .. but school?   Get real.

Plus the 3 days of the year that it was nice enough to ride a bike without snow .. usually happened during summer holidays.

A 10 speed bike was such a symbol of independence.  Once I made it the 2.5 miles over the dirt roads to the highway ... it was magic.  I had to walk the bike that distance because neither the seat nor I had enough padding to endure the corrugated gravel roads and the gears would never have survived the damage from the flying rocks and gophers.  Then I would be on the highway, pavement beneath my feet,  road stretching for miles either way .. .   I would get on and begin to gear up until I was speeding along, wind rushing through my hair, bugs caught in my teeth  . . . and I would be able to go . . . to 4 or 5 wheat fields down the road. 

What a rush.

I could have gone all the way to Saskatchewan ... but I didn't.

I would turn the bike around and ride back to my own wheat field, and smile, knowing the wheat and I shared a secret, that I had been beyond our fence and traveled to worlds unknown, beyond the barb wire and the irrigation canal.  I was a world traveler, and not even the prairies could keep me from flying free.   And then I would walk the bike back another 2.5 miles home, not even caring if a rabid skunk attacked me from the ditch.

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I never understood how I managed to do that day after day and my parents never caught on, never worried about me, never came searching.   If they only knew how I was living my life, my precious youth, on the knife's edge of adventure.

You are lucky I survived to be able to be here to type about it.

SKIN:  MUNDOS {BL} Demi Skin_Latte_Smokey/Pure
HANDS and FEET:  SLink
HAIR:  little bones. Feline
EYES:  Egozy..Eyes Enigmatic Green
PURSE:  Indy&Co.: Marina Tote: White
OUTFIT and EARRINGS:  {Indyra} Philosophy
SHOES:  *YSandYS* Latina Shiny Cream
LOCATION:  Crossing Currents
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