Last fall, I finally bit the bullet and learned to ride a bike. It was a crisp Saturday afternoon, and I was killing time with mobile games with my middle school buddy. We got bored, and I suggested buying myself a bike on a whim. To my surprise, he was all for it, even roping in another friend who knew his way around two wheels. With the escape hatch slammed shut, I knew there was no backing out.

As a kid, I’d taken my mom’s bike for a spin or two, but the thought of hitting the open road terrified me. Maybe it was the fear of mowing someone down or the equal terror of being knocked over myself. School and work never required cycling, so learning just never happened.

My first choice was a basic green mountain bike. It was a decent brand, and for a newbie like me, I figured an advanced bike, like a Giant, was just an invitation for scratches and dents. I feigned satisfaction with the test ride before paying for it, even though I was clueless about bikes. I secretly hoped my friend would just push me home. But with a mischievous grin, he said, “Follow us or you‘ll be alone,” and took off. That day, somehow, I managed to keep up for about 15 kilometers, weaving through traffic and dodging street vendors on busy roads.

Later, I started going for evening rides along the riverside road, starting slowly and gradually shifting gears. Before I knew it, I was cruising in top gear. My only wipeout came when I had to brake suddenly to avoid someone and squeeze the front brake. It wasn’t a bad fall, just a gentle topple.

My lack of bike knowledge led to some rookie mistakes. Not knowing how to shift gears properly, I’d furiously pedal on that riverside road, only to see the bike inch forward. Another time, I messed up the gear combo – high gear on the front wheel, lowest on the back. When I shifted to fast, the chain popped right off the front wheel. Luckily, I didn’t crash, and after some fumbling, got it back on and rode home.

Fast forward to recently. After a spring filled with dust and fluff, my bike’s chain and cassette seemed overdue for a cleaning. So, I went online and ordered chain cleaner, rust remover, and lubricant. On a sunny afternoon, I meticulously wiped down the cassette and chain, even tackling some rust spots. After drying everything off, I applied lube with a smug sense of accomplishment. Imagine my horror when the cassette turned red the next day! Back to rust removal duty. This time, an old man watching me chuckled and explained that the cassette doesn’t need oil. So, I re-lubed the chain and called it a day. Two days later, it poured rain (thankfully, my bike parked dry) but the entire cassette turned yellow, and the chain looked worse for wear. My once-proud steed now resembled a recycling bin reject. I’m at a loss – should I paint the cassette with rust-proof stuff? Or maybe just buy a rust-proof one altogether?

Speaking of questionable choices, the first time I cleaned the bike, I noticed some rust on the rear brake disc. Who knows why, but I decided it needed oil too (). The result? Well, one time I was out riding with my friend on a quiet small path. We were deep in conversation and we both hit the brakes, and then, I was flying past him. He laughed about that for a long time…

PS: This diary has been revised by AI.