riding your bike as fast as you can. through nyc rush hour. with a camera mounted to your helmet. dodging traffic, pedestrians, horse carriages, and potholes. this is intense. this is scary. this is, suffice to say, how i do not ride my bike.
edited to "welcome to the jungle." the theme music that honestly runs through my head as i cautiously traverse chicago streets on my trek calypso cruiser, red crash helmet that makes me look more like the human cannonball than aerodynamic firmly strapped to my head and wire basket with my handbag jauntily leading the way, is the music that plays when the wicked witch of the west rides her broom (and when miss gulch rides her bike in kansas like the bitch that she is).