My boyfriend Blake and I are half-jokingly, half-realistically trying to see how long we can get by with just my Prius and his “mature” GMC truck. For context, the truck, christened “Old Trusty,” is older than I am, half rusted, but runs great! (if you like getting 11mpg)
So far, so good with our car sharing experiment.
But today, when he needed to borrow my Prius and I had to get to my ukulele lesson after work, decisions had to be made. How would I get 9 miles into town in time for my lesson, and then another 13 miles to where we were having a family dinner? Decisions decisions.
I decided to ride my bike. With my ukulele. And so, off I went with my Lycra supersuit and ukulele strapped to my back.
I arrived to my lesson and was greeted by Robyn, my awesome teacher. To say the least, she was a little surprised to see me show up in spandex with a bicycle–and a ukulele on my back. Honestly, I can’t blame her.
We jammed to some Jack Johnson (more like, Robyn did and I just tried to keep up) and then I was back on the bike for round 2. Got all the looks you might expect when someone sees a girl riding a Pinarello with a ukulele on her back.
All was going well, and then I turned onto Price Canyon, a connector road with nice views that runs between San Luis Obispo and Pismo Beach. About a mile up the road, I pass one object, then another, and then another.
I do a double take. I think to myself, “did I just pass three loaves of bread?” Surely not, but alas, I turn around and yes, bread.
So I do what any rational person would do. I turn around and go back for said bread.
Problem was I already had a ukulele and minimal room for much else (I’m on a bicycle, after all). Not to mention that bread squishes easily, so there goes any hope of jamming loaves of bread, hot dog rolls, or bagels (I had many options) into my swanky new handlebar bag. Or anywhere else, for that matter.
Like the conscious consumer that I am, I evaluate my choices and realize there is one bag of whole wheat in perfect condition. That’s the winner. I stash it down my jacket and proudly set off with my score.
I continue another 8 or 9 lovely miles with bread down my shirt and a ukulele hanging off my back (which is actually surprisingly easy to do, turns out that bread makes nice cushioning). The look on the face of Blake and his parents as I rolled up? 100% worth it.
Next, I’ll learn how to ride the bike, while playing ukulele, while making (and then eating) a sandwich. Dream big, kids. For now, I think I’ll just make some avocado toast.
Happy Trail Tales 