First Flight

I had the tricky part of the chair fixed at a bike shop. The guy was able to get the seat back into the right position. I think he was initially a little freaked out about it, but after a few minutes, he was just working on machinery, which made him happy.

He was fascinated by the quick release pin for the wheels. I also think I put the casters on wrong, but that's another adventure at a later date.

For the past three years, I've known exactly where I would head the first day I had my chair: the Anonymous Mall. No one I know goes there because it's out of the way and a bit down at heels.

The parking lot was full.

I lucked into a spot relatively close to the book store I wanted to go to. I got the chair out of the car, assembled it, and got in. I closed the trunk and set off slowly.

What I didn't realize while it was happening was that I had to go up a slight incline to get into the store. There were double non-automatic doors with raised sills.

Every middle-aged woman in the book store rushed to the front to open all of the doors for me at once. I said thank you because I genuinely needed that bit of assistance. So. Thanks.

In the store, I took a minute to orient myself to being in an unfamiliar store and at tush height, no less.

I picked out a couple of books and wheeled over to the cafe area. I was already jazzed up/borderline manic without making it worse with a cup of high octane coffee, so I just wheeled up to a table, scooted over one of the chair, and thumbed through my books.

There were a couple of things I learned.

One is energy conservation. I was in the middle of the store and wanted to look at cookbooks. Instead of drifting all over the place, I asked a sales clerk which direction to the cookbooks and she pointed me on my way.

I haven't the least idea if anybody stared at me, nor do I care. I was more concerned about getting from point A to point B without falling on my face. When I left the store, I was feeling considerably more confident and I bulled through the doors. "Oh wait," one woman said, chasing after me,"I'll get the door for you."

"Got it, thanks," I called over my shoulder.

And then I zipped down the slight incline and began to feel what my cadence will be like when I wheel longer distances. It takes some experimenting to get into the groove. To find your own particular groove.

I got into the car and thought about how odd it was.

When I was in the chair, it was as if my legs and indeed, anything from my hips down, didn't exist. I didn't expect them to do anything to aid me in my travels.

Getting in the car, it really was a bit of a struggle. I sat and looked at my legs. I said, "All right. You have to work now." And after a few minutes, they did.

When I got home, I thought, that was interesting but I don't know if I ever have to do that again.

Today, I started planning a trip for Sunday.