biking in the sun

Mokee is well and happy after a weekend at a treatment spa which specialises in the wholesomeness of Mongeese. Poor Mokee had been left standing for just over a year now, outside, though under some stairs, and is well rusted and worn-looking.

He had his chain oiled and gears re-adjusted, and the attachments for a basket put on his steering wheel (or whatever it’s called). Instead, his rear parcel carrier (or whatever that’s called; it’s bögglaberi in the old Icelandic) was removed and put on my sister’s bike. She don’t name bikes. I will have to clean the dust and rust off Mokee. Myself. We’ll see abt that, ha!

I took him out for a spin today, accompanied by my sister Sigrún. The weather was extraordinarily nice, just perfect for a bike ride. As fab as he is, Mokee has a very embarassing gear shifting system. It’s most likely invented for the visually & mentally impaired, I wouldn’t be surprised to find the kind in braille as well, whereas my sister’s bike sports a more adult version. Thing is though, she can’t work the gear shift and is always cycling too rapidly or too slow, punishing herself up hills or riding like a hyper active cartoon figure on straight roads, while my childish braille gear shifts are just great for me:)

We didn’t exactly look a picture of health, panting as we were up hills against the wind, as well as down hill with wind on our backs, bulging in various feminine ways in our tight gym wear.

We looked more like two adorable chubby children, smiling inanely in our mutual bike riding ecstacy. With our right trouser legs tucked into our socks and our cuddly faces hemmed in by our sturdy helmets, we were nigh on cherub like, to be sure. Perhaps not the look we were aiming for, but a ‘look’ nonetheless.

I even have a basket now to fill with toys:) Actually, I’ll stick my kitten in there once I get it. I may have to superglue its paws to the basket or else risk it making a graceful escape. Or perhaps it will enjoy the occasional bike ride. We’ll see.