Bike Rack Blues

Stolen outfit elements? Perhaps. If you think the pleated skirt and silly gold peeptoes are familiar, you're  a keen observer...

I thought after yesterday's story of absurd tragedy, another story of my ineptitude.

I love my bike. I love my bike rack. I bought it from a shop in which the owner is knowledgeable but isn't gross and patronizing about it. When I went in for a tune up, they offered to sell me an old junker rack rather than the $65 "mack daddy" rack. Because I wouldn't appreciate a nice one and I'm too cheap.

Last weekend, we spent a lot of time biking everywhere. And every time I touched my bike, I nearly tipped it over and definitely knocked my basket off the side of the rack. Every darn time. Water bottles scattered everywhere, the contents of my sling backpack dumped to the ground.

This is why I don't have nice things. I'm a bike rack menace. It's also a good thing I went with a back basket... I'm an overcorrecting steer-er and would probably wind up eating pavement if there was weight in the front on my handlebars.