I am jostled around on my oversized bicycle. The rocks under me are forcing the handlebars to jolt out of control. When my cousin told me she found a new bike trail, I was not expecting this. I expected a languid ride around the campsite like usual. Not this hellish, overgrown trail that is completely isolated from everything. Since we were camping, we spent most of our time riding around on our bikes to pass time. Now on the new trail, I realize turning around would be more troublesome then continuing, so I follow her instead. I know she took her prescription contacts out this morning, so I have to warn her when there are pits in front of her, otherwise she would be tumbling towards the ground. As I follow behind her, her bike kicks up dirt, which I try to blink out of my eyes. To no avail. Flinching from the bees flying past my face, I try to avoid being stung. My bike, which is too large for my feet to reach the ground, is sliding on the powdered dirt. Why did I let her influence me? I have no idea. This was a terrible idea. The trail felt like it might be endless for a moment, but I know not to let us separate. If one of us–or both of us–ended up missing it would be troublesome. I start to crave a break. My legs are progressively giving out, and it has been a long day; fortunately, I notice a clearing with black pavement up ahead. The highway we drove on to come to the campsite I realize. My cousin turns to look at me, and I look at her. We both laugh a relieved laugh, and we take the shoulder of the highway, pushing off on our bikes to ride back to camp.
1 answer
Certainly! Here’s a simplified version of one of the sentences with an interruptive appositive phrase:
Original sentence: "My bike, which is too large for my feet to reach the ground, is sliding on the powdered dirt."
Revised sentence: "My bike, a cumbersome giant, is sliding on the powdered dirt."
This revision maintains the original meaning while incorporating the interruptive appositive phrase.
