Thank goodness for my 3-year-old bike enthusiast or I’d so easily pop open the door to my van when it’s time to take him to preschool. So. Easily. My excuse today would have been that it is trash day and smelly bins are lining the streets. But honestly, I just have the impulse to drive. It’s deeply ingrained, despite the delight this month has been–breezing over speed bumps and standing in the saddle for the downhills as well as the uphills.
I wanna bike with sistoh! I want Daddy to take me! (Daddy is Robin’s favored parent at the moment.)
*whispers in his ear*
OK, mommy, you can take me in the trailer.
This is his concession for not getting to ride his own 9-inch Green Machine, and for not getting to go with Daddy to drop off sister.
So, even though I’d already met my goal for May is Bike Month (50 miles), I helped him pump up the trailer tires and I pedaled five more. The things I do for this boy.
Some emails came for me while I was gone. I checked them later.
On Monday Camilla and I biked 12 miles, the most for either of us in one day. We went on the American River Bike Trail with our friends and fellow May is Bike Month riders, Laura and Selah. Officially known as the Jedidiah Smith Memorial Bike Trail, this 32-mile paved path of glorious, mostly shaded carlessness is one of the longest such urban trails in the USA. (Click here for a review of our bike path, plus four other metro-area ones elsewhere in the USA.)
We met up at Bannister Park in Fair Oaks and discovered one of Laura’s front brake pads holding tight to the rim. That wheel was not going anywhere.
Plus it was raining. What? We go months with nothing but dry allergens blowing around and on Memorial Day, when many are finally able to get out for a few hours, it rains?
Oh well. The sky spat a few drops and kept the temps down for our cruising enjoyment. My husband Ivan quickly figured out that Laura’s wheel was simply misaligned on its hub, and fixed it.
Selah had borrowed another girl’s bike–a slightly larger one so she could go faster with fewer pedal revolutions–and she sailed along with nary a freakout. Well, one little one, during a dismount/remount (a skill which I still have yet to master and during which I’m also prone to small freakouts). I was proud of her. Camilla did very well, too. At one point I adjusted her seat higher, but I must not have locked it in place because when we met our drivers and other kids at the finish-line picnic, her knees were sticking way out. The seat post had worked itself all the way back into the tube. Oops.
To view the slide show captions, hover your mouse over each photo.