So ... I didn't crash my bike.
I fell off of it.
Or with it, rather.
Trying to back away from a bee.
Luckily, J wasn't there yet & didn't witness my shame.
No one saw the actual fall; the people at the lake turned around in time to see me on my back, like a turtle, trapped under my bike, which to them likely explained why I was wearing a helmet in the first place.
I have some spectacular bruises & cuts as souvenirs. (The red streaks are from the myriad mosquito bites I get to enjoy in addition to my multi-hued skin).
I opted to not take pictures during the ride itself. Best to not tempt fate.
And I was too busy pushing my bicycle up the path to operate a camera, too.
Turns out I'm much better at mountain hiking than mountain biking.
