The first big trip I ever took with Jason was a bike trip to British Columbia (BC). We had plans to bike on some of the smaller islands like Pender, Galiano, and Saltspring and camp overnight before going to the next island by ferry.
I had never biked outside with clip-in pedals before. Jason insisted that clip-in pedals were important for this trip, so that I had a better technique while I was pedalling. I had taught spin classes and was comfortable using clip-ins in classes. Riding outside is a whole different story. Prior to leaving on our adventure, Jason checked in to make sure I felt comfortable riding with clip-ins for the first time outside. Of course, I said I was comfortable.
I was not comfortable at all.
But when you’re in a new relationship, there’s a big part of you that wants to keep up to your partner and impress them. I had only been dating Jason for about a year, so I wanted to look good in front of him. I tried to play it cool and look like I knew what I was doing. I said I was comfortable, even though I was not.
Fake it ‘till you make it. Right? Even though I wasn’t comfortable with the idea of riding with clip-ins, I didn’t think that it would be that big of a deal. I assumed that it would be quick and easy to learn.
We drove out to BC with our vehicle and had our bikes in the car with their panniers ready to pop on. We were in the parking lot getting ready to jump on the ferry, loaded up the panniers on the bikes and jumped on to ride the 50m through the parking lot and to the bike lane. On the edge of the parking lot, there was a small ramp that we needed to go up with a sharp right turn to get on to the ferry terminal. I left the car and put my feet gently on top of the pedals so that I didn’t clip in. I wanted to be able to remove my feet quickly, knowing that I had to stop soon.
I started up the short ramp and pushed down on my pedals to keep my momentum. I heard the dreaded click. My feet were both clipped into the pedals. I had no momentum and no speed with heavy bags weighing down the bike behind me. I fell in a hard crash to my right side. I scraped my hands because I hasn’t had a chance to put my bike gloves on yet, bruised my hip and felt incredibly stupid that I had crashed in the first 50m of our trip.
I dusted myself off, collected my bike and pushed it the rest of the way to the ferry stop. Somehow during my fall, I managed to lose my gloves. I walked back to the car thinking I might have left them there. No luck. Then I checked my crash site. Again, no luck. After pulling apart my bags, I figured that I donated them to nature.
So that's how our bike adventure started. With two scraped hands and a very bruised ego. Thinking that things had nowhere to go but up, we continued our journey. We boarded the ferry off to our first Island adventure.
On this island, I wasn't prepared for the steepness of the hills. They were quite steep on both sides with a sharp shoulder. I suddenly realized that I was not comfortable using clipping pedals. I thought it would be easier to manage. Biking up and down the steep hills just made me uncomfortable especially when I couldn’t maintain momentum going up. I failed to account for how much slower I’d be carrying all my gear in my panniers.
One hill made me even more uncomfortable. It had a tiny shoulder not much wider than the width of my handlebars. It was also much steeper than the rest. I was in my smallest gear and quickly losing my momentum. Desperate to bike the entire hill, I pushed on. Sucking wind, I was determined to make it to the top.
Hearing a loud engine, I glanced over my left shoulder. A big truck was coming up fast, making me feel even more uncomfortable. As the truck was passing me, I moved over to the right so that my handlebars wouldn’t get bumped by the side of the truck. I caught some gravel, causing my handlebars to shake. The momentum from my panniers made it harder to keep straight. I quickly lost control and fell headfirst into the ditch. As I looked up, the truck sped up and took off.
At this point, Jason had already crested the hill and hadn't seen any of this. I'm lying in the ditch, still attached to my bike, lying down the hill with my bike above me.
I’m a tangled mess. I'm filthy dirty. All I want to do is cry. I'm ready to quit and we’ve gone less than 10km.
And at the same time, I'm trying to look good for this guy that I'm trying to (unsuccessfully) impress.
I realized that I’m in over my head and I have no idea what I'm going to do to keep up to Jason. We had a four-day bike trip ahead of us and we had only gotten an hour into the trip.
(Photo by Sem Steenbergen: https://www.pexels.com/photo/person-in-the-middle-of-a-forest-3621344/)
Still lying down the hill, I pulled myself together and somehow managed to unclip myself. I pushed my bike to the top of the steep hill and Jason was waiting for me. The truck driver had unrolled his window and yelled to Jason when he was passing him, “I think your friend is in the ditch”. Jason knew I had crashed and was kind enough to wait for me.
I decided that I really want to impress Jason and so I put on a brave face. We kept biking and only had a short distance until we got to the first town to stop for a lunch picnic. As we rolled into the main drive, we were trying to figure out exactly where to go. Jason was in front of me when he stopped his bike. Then he decided that he stopped in the wrong place so started biking again. I thought we were going to continue riding a bit further, so I clipped in. Then Jason stopped immediately in front of me.
A car was on my left, so I had to steer to the right quickly, desperately trying to unclip my left foot. In a slow-motion fall, the weight of the panniers threw the balance off, and the front end of my bike flew up. The top tube hit me square in the crotch, right on the pubic bone. Searing pain burned in my crotch as I hit the pavement still clipped in. I’m lying on the road right in front of Jason.
So much for making a good impression on this trip. I'm done. This is my third fall for the day and despite trying to hold it together, the tears start streaming out. I'm overwhelmed. I'm in pain. I'm embarrassed. I don't want to be here. I'm in over my head.
I realize that I’m still lying in the road and pull myself together. I untangle myself from my bike, get out of the road and pull my heavy bike with all my gear onto the sidewalk. Jason did the obligatory, “there, there,” pat on my back, not knowing what to say or how to soothe my severely bruised ego.
Fortunately, after having a good cry and getting some food in, the rest of the day was less eventful. We had a long break and then only had to bike a few more kilometers before we got to our first camp. We landed at a campground that was closed so we were able to have the whole space to ourselves for a quiet night. Jason was such a gentleman (I think he just felt bad for me) that he set up the tent and cooked dinner.
So that was day one. I survived. Not quite sure if I was ready for another day of this, I fell into a deep sleep, exhausted from the eventful day.