Helmet Hair

Author: 
Evans Craddock
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Last week I was gifted the ultimate gift: a bicycle. It’s red, rides as smooth as butter, and holds an adorable wicker basket on its front handlebars. It’s a dreamy bike, and I almost peed my pants when I first got my grubby little hands on it.
 
After soaking up in its beauty for a few minutes, I hit the pavement and pedaled my way around the city ringing my cute-as-a-button bicycle bell whenever I could. “I can go wherever I want!” I shouted, deftly dodging innocent bystanders.
 
I was free.
 
And then I got a phone call. It was my mom who’d just received the photo of my new whip. “I love your bicycle, sweetie,” she said, “but I don't want to see you on it without a helmet.”
 
A helmet? Huh? How does a big ol’ bicycle helmet fit in to my picture perfect girl-on-a-cute-bike vision? (My vision=me looking like Grace Kelly in a funky dress from
Anthropologie and not Lance Armstrong in spandex....a girl can dream.) I argued with my mom for a few minutes about how I had a very short commute to work, I’d be fine, and I don’t want helmet hair. And then she came back with something along the lines of “I’m your mother. Get a helmet.” In true mother fashion, she won the argument.
 
So, I moseyed down to Affordabike to get the job done. There, I was greeted by a gentleman.
 
“I guess I need a helmet,” I huffed.
 
“They say people that don’t wear helmets don’t have much to protect,” he replied as he handed me a few options.
 
In the end, I came home with a light blue helmet that I’ve been assured is the perfect mix of fashion and safety. It’s lightweight and so comfortable that I’m actually
considering incorporating it into my daily wardrobe.
 
So, what am I trying to say here? I guess maybe (and selfishly) I’m hoping to get a few more of you bikers out there to join me in the helmet revolution. Protect your noggin. We can all high five one another as we bike past each other on our beautiful Lowcountry streets. Or, maybe, we could just laugh together when we walk into the bar with our helmet in hand and toast the day with a head full of sweaty helmet hair.