The Bridge of Death

The overbearing whiteness of the season's first snowfall glared ominously at me as I perched atop my (Walmart-cheap, mind you) cold-stiffened bicycle.  Good luck, the icy wind seemed to sneer as it prickled and stung my exposed neckline.  This, this former aesthetic wonderment turned foreboding natural atrocity, was not something I had given enough thought when I forwent purchasing a vehicle parking permit and opted instead to occupy the greenbelt with my laborous travels.  I wish I could say that this was an environmentally conscious decision... but I am generally just your typical, cheap college student who wanted to save that wad o' cash for some many frivolous things down the road--like a new thick, woolen scarf to combat this ridiculous 13 degrees coldness... but I digress.

I set off not-so-full-speed ahead, my two wheels wobbling precariously without the assurance of a graveled or concrete road immediately beneath them.  As far as I was concerned, I crossed my t's and dotted my i's when it came to "taking precaution" and "adjusting to the weather conditions."  Though they were few, there were even moments where I might have found enjoyment in the adventure of it--but then I remembered how cold I was.

Then, I saw the campus.  Just one last bridge to traverse and I could take my despisement of the weather inside and defrost, comfortably.  There was no snow on this pleasantly covered bridge, which was certainly a welcome sight.  As I had many a time before during this part of my commute, I thought that building my momentum would be a good idea so that I could make it up the upcoming hill without over-exerting myself (I am equal parts lazy and out of shape, you see).  With those things in mind, I stood, I peddled, and ssshhherthud, I crashed.  Quite hard.  The slightly damp wood of the bridge welcomed no grip from my snow-packed tires, and as I attempted to bank around the subtle curve of the structure, my bike slid out and wiped out.  My body hit the ground with more force than I had ever remembered experiencing before, leaving me all sorts of tangled and throbbing.  Laying there, defeated, I let out the guttural uguhhhhh uh-huhhhhh signature to a human who has just done something stupid and is in pain.  In this conflict of (wo)man versus nature, I openly admit that mother(effing) nature wins--lesson learned:  saving that wad o' cash certainly wasn't worth the whip-lash.