(Not Quite) There and Back Again

Disclaimer: The contents of this website are mine personally and do not reflect any position of the U.S. government or the Peace Corps.

Lately I always seem to be on the wrong side of indoors during the rain with kilometers separating me from a hot cup of ceai (ceai here refers to "tea" in Romanian and "chai" the type of tea - which I'm almost out of ! Send more mom! Please! Make it Stash in the Red box!)

Last Monday I bought myself a bike. I miss my bike at home and putting into storage was one of the hardest things I had to do to get ready for the Peace Corps. So with the rest of my settling-in allowance I bought myself a red and sliver bicycel and it comes with a light and one of those carriage things in the back too. It's a very nice bike, but I think it deserves a better rider than me. For one thing I don't really know how to switch the gears. I just turn until the awful grinding crunching noises stop - Sorry bike! That's the only instruction I ever got in my life on switching gears. Further more I think it's a little short for me. I have to lean over too far to grip the handle bars and that puts a lot of weight on my hands - after the little adventure I'm about to share with you my hands were red and bruised from gripping the handle bars whereas I'm much more comfortable sitting up straighter with my hands lightly resting on the handle bars -rather than closing around them.

But its a good bike and as we're just getting to know each other I planned a ride for the Tuesday after I bought it. I wanted to go to Simeria, the next small town over which is only 3 Kilometers away. THat should be no problem, right? I'll also say that for being surrounded by large hills leading up to the Carpathian mountains, Deva the town is surprisingly flat - all the better for biking in my opinion. I pictured myself peddling along a vacant one lane road toward Simeria where I've been before in a Maxi Taxi. So I downloaded a yoga class for cyclists to do upon my return and headed out the door my bike in one hand, helmet on my head.

However, memory plays tricks on you and the road to Simeria (once I found it) isn't exactly a vacant one lane road but a four lane highway - which becomes a two lane highway but still - it was full of traffic - including Semi trucks which pass VERY close to you.

I must say, although I once rented a bicylce for one fabulous day in Florence, Italy, I've never really appreciated how difficult it is to ride a bicycle in a different culture where you don't know the rules of the road. In the United States I was never a master of bicylce saftey. I did a lot of stupid things, and I usually ride my bike on the sidewalk - it's how I get around. Deva is blessed with a lot of wide, SMOOTH, sidewalks, for walking but Romanians don't know what to do when someone rides up behind them on the sidewalk on a bike. They don't get out of the way. But I am too scared to take to the streets with my new bike. Eventually I did, though nervously, praying that once I got out of the city and started heading toward Simeria there would be less people staring at the big girl with the tiny red bike wearing a helmet. (I'm the only one I've ever seen in Deva with a bike helmet.)

This was not the case. There was ridiculous traffice between Deva and Simeria yesterday on a Friday afternoon. And I said I found myself peddling along a four lane highway thinking about all the death machines that were sneaking up behind me - silently I might add, praying that the shoulder was not too soft to send me spinning and the mud not too muddy. I realized the seat on my bike could be defined as some Post-Vlad-Tepest torture device. But that's not totally fair to the bike seat. There's also the rocks and many bumps in the shoulder and unpaved sections of shoulder. All I can say is "oh, my aching Sits bones." (Sits bones is a yoga thing).

In between Deva and Simeria is what looks like another town. A town with trecherously narrow sidewalks. Riding here is like riding a bike through an obstacle course - and not meant for someone with my depth perception or sense of panic. It was comforting to get onto a "sidewalk" sepearated from the dangerous "machine" (cars-plural) by a little fence, but this town's sidewalk was narrow, bumpy, and obscured by lumber trucks, huge piles of asphalt, and what appeared to be a ridge in the pavement actually upon closer inspection opened up and revealed itself to be a flight of stairs going down - I presume to hell. This town really made me miss riding Grayson, my Trek bike back in Fargo North Dakota, which I can't say is pedestrian friendly but is at least nowhere near as pedestrian endangering.

Once I made it through this challenge section of the course it was me versus two lanes of opposing traffic. Not so bad if I stayed on the shoulder and prayed - but then there was the whole issue of Semi's pulling on to the shoulder and turning (blindly) back onto the highway. I will admit it. I'm not a man. There were several obstacles too scary for me - I dared not try and manuever. I just got off the bike and walked around them. A

It was about this time as I walked my bike passed a traffice jam (between Deva and Simeria - ?) and up a hill and over the railroad tracks that I realized the wind was blowing something fierce. Into my face. I'd already postponed my bike ride for two days because of the two day flu - and another several hours because of a morning rainstorm. I have been concerned lately about my sedentary lifestyle which leads me to spend most of my day sitting in front of the computer - other than my daily yoga practice. I really wanted to go to Simeria and back. Until now I had been set on my goal. I'm going to do it - no excuses. And although there were times that my biking slowed considerably, I probably kept my heart rate pretty high for this whole adventure. But now -feeling like I'd risked death numerous times already with Me Versus Traffic, I noticed the sky over the purple shaded hills on the horizon behind me darkening. I smelled rain in the air. I'm sure I wasn't far from my destination, but nevertheless - more than halfway to Simeria I turned around.

As soon as I turned around I felt better. It was probably because I was coasting down a hill as I watched the lightening in the hills that I thought I could race the storm home. But I was in the middle of road construction when the rain hit. The only thing I cared about at that point was the fact that I was much closer to Deva than before. I was in fact, joyful, as I pettled my way down the now-familar streets as the rain came down. Thinking about getting caught in the rain on my camping trip, I kind of laughed a little. Then I remembered that THAT was nothing more than a consistent gentle summer rain. I was biking in what soon became a torrential downpour. I took comfort in the fact that I was back in the city, and my bike has a light on it - though it wasn't dark enough to actually help me see, it made me feel good to think people might be better able to see me - and I journeyed on. By now I'd reached the "Pothole" level of the obstacle course. Many roads in Romania have knee deep potholes in them - if you're not careful you could fall into one and ne'r be heard from again. But when the potholes are filled with water they are INVISIBLE! Once again rather than steer my new bicycle friend into danger, I climbed down and soaked a pair of shoes walking us around several would be dangers.

Have I mentioned this entire time I was thinking of nothing but the glass of iced tea I'd put in the freezer for myself before I left the house? That iced tea was calling me home since before I turned my bike around and headed back to Deva and as I pulled up to my apartment building my throat was the only part of me that was dry. I brought my bike inside the door only to hear my neighbor open her door to see what was going on in the hallway. I can't imagine what she thought when she saw her American neighbor carrying a 10speed bike up the stairs and soaking wet. I heard her say "oh my god. Go inside and take of your wet clothes! NOW!" I said. "I'm wet. Yes. Yes. I'm fine." and brought my bike into the apartment where I enjoyed several freezing cold glasses of iced tea - followed by a dry towel, a 10 minute yoga session and hot bath.

Even though I didn't make it to my destination - turned back shy of my goal - and got caught in the rain AGAIN - I didn't die on the side of the road, so I'm calling this adventure a sucess.

And for the record, next time I ride to Simeria I'm looking at a county map and trying to find a way to get there hopefully along back roads.