Northern Copenhagen environs, Denmark
Botched my gear change while manoeuvering an urban intersection, unhinging the chain. This is a first!
Contemplate panicking, bigtime - Instead, opt for ZEN and minutes later - fingers greased, I re-mount "Sid" - assume control of direction and velocity, while resuming invincibility. Not embarrassed at all.
Later, I turn right, leading to the lakes of Utterslev Mose sprawl, resounding virgin spring from winged creatures and not least easy, bike-friendly paths. These lakes echo a natural version of the five artificial lakes close to the city's heart, which incidentally draw their water from here. No real surprises in store, but I relish unleashing "Sid" - this urban gulag, you know.
We arrived at the footbridge spanning ten feet of active water, leading into an eyebrow-shaped wooded area, a crow's mile from my flat and I was all for doing the "comfort zone thing" which would ultimately land me on my singles couch, facing a rather modest TV.
But "Sid" had ideas, all of a sudden. They do sometimes you know. It's their nature. You can't keep it down all the time. And they can't help it either. You just have to let them get it out of their system.
First he bypassed more potential exits, then turned left instead of right, down a narrow path hugging a rippling brook, which led into a tunnel leading to...?
So close to home - and yet lost in this naughty spring fling. I was intrigued. "Sid" could be onto something. Come on, I couldn't really get lost. All I had to do was follow the brook going back, if things got out of hand. Not like breadcrumbs, right?
Part of the city's impeccable, extensive biking facilities, designed, groomed and tailored, catering for pedestrians and cyclists, this stretch was new to me. Patches of wood, ball parks, playgrounds, benches for reclining, tables for whatever, solid grill stands, overview maps and further excess. Unchartered turf and barring "Sid"'s initiative, "black matter" for sure.
Spring had just taken a turn for the better. Like stepping out of a tomb and showered in resurrection sunlight.
Eventually, the brook met an asphalt river with cars coming thick and fast. Yonder more trees and a lake of sorts. It looked swell and I craved more. "Sid" carried me across in one piece, elevated within. Then, recognition struck.
My "great escape" was cruelly foiled. I was here just yesterday! This lake was but a shout from my Copenhagen flat.
Next day I ventured a rerun. But I couldn't unhinge the chain on purpose and now I knew where the brook would lead us.
