Bicycle, bicycle, bicycle

I fell off my bike (should I add again). I was at the beach and wanted to get from the parking lot to the bike path. Well, the path of least resistance, no wait, the shortest path, no that's wrong too, "easiest" way to get there was to ride my bike across a small stretch of sand. Well, I rode along the paved car path for awhile to assess the plausibility of my task at hand. Okay, the easiest thing for me to do would to un-click my shoes out of the pedals and walk my bike across the sand.

However, I worked the plan out in my head and figured if I pick up speed, then I'd get to the bike path without having to un-click out of the pedals. It occurred to me that being airborne would help. I peddled fast, faster, and whosh. The first tire, second tire, rotate, rotate, gravity, traction, other physical principles, more gravity. Kito down. A few cyclists yell, "are you okay," and another, "you knew you weren't going to make it." "I know," I giggled, "but I had to try." I was giggling too much and didn't get up right away. Two cyclists stopped to help me up, brush off my bike a bit, and warn me about the dangers of falling on the beach bike bath. I was in the sand, so all was well. Too much fun.