Unplanned adventures - a memorable bike commute
Happily enjoying long-awaited Valentine’s Day treats.
Last summer we managed to run or bike to swim lessons more days than not. Not only was it a great way to get fresh air and exercise, but it demonstrated the little things we can do to be healthy and environmentally conscious. This year it pained me to drive but we were doing swim lessons a bit further (13 miles each way). After my oldest covered 19 miles in a single day without any signs of fading, I felt we were ready to tackle this challenge.
Only needing a run leg to complete the triathlon.
Easy come…
First, I made sure to leave with a cushion, nearly two hours to cover the miles, breaks, and transition. I pulled the two younger kids in our beloved Chariot bike cart that had weathered thousands of miles. My oldest daughter had no problems keeping up biking with my handicap.
We took in many sights, traveling a bit slower on the backroads which included admiring mailboxes, turkeys, a yard full of chickens and ducks, and even barn quilts. I was impressed with our descents, often reaching over 25 mph, and topping out at 30 mph.
At the point of no return, my younger daughter pointed out the ominous clouds in exactly the direction we were heading. Just then rain drops began to fall. Since I had neglected to check the weather and forgotten the rain cover (a huge mom mistake, but at least I brought plenty of snacks!), I reassured her that it was ok if we got wet since we were going swimming. Luckily the rain didn’t last much longer than to get the pavement wet.
We only stopped twice to hydrate plus for a few raspberries we spotted. We arrived at swim lessons with plenty of time. The kids had earned their snacks which included Valentine treats, which have a long shelf life…the high calorie, sugar content is perfect for energy needed for long endeavors such as these. The kids all enjoyed the snacks followed by lessons.
…but not easy go
All was going smooth until we departed for our return trip, which turned into an unexpected adventure. Long story short, I didn’t plan to have my daughter having to slow for me and then dropping me instantly upon permission to go ahead at mile 25!
Riding the rims for the final 10 miles and 80 pounds of (precious) cargo was quite the workout!
Now the long version. After a stop for some roadside apples, I pointed familiar landmarks in the distance along our route home. All was perfect until I suddenly heard “PSSSSSSTTT”. I instantly felt a surge of adrenaline through my body since I knew the way home would take longer than planned with the flat tire on the bike cart. I didn’t have any pump, tools, or spare tube to repair the flat so I checked with my husband if I could travel the remaining 10 miles on the rim. He assured me he had done so previously, and it would be a challenge (when the kids were several years younger and lighter). I was up for a workout, so we continued on.
After about 2 miles, I suddenly heard another alarming sound “THWACK, THWACK, THWACK.” My eyes bulged as I turned around to see loose rubber flapping off the rim. I sunk, thinking our journey had come to an end. After dismounting, I realized it was only the tube escaping from the loose tire. I quickly snagged the tube and threw it in the cart. My challenge had just gotten a bit harder. We descended hills at a fraction of the speed we had earlier. Even then, the wheel wobbled so much the younger kids cautioned me to slow down. They frequently reported that the “The tire is not off yet.”
I welcomed the break to pick some raspberries my daughter spotted. She has quite the eye, earlier she had pointed out a pair of sandhill cranes. I made a point to ask the kids to flip-flop and rearrange the cart, so all the heaviest cargo was on the side opposite of the flat. As we passed several remnants of shredded tires spewed along the roadside, I was happy ours was holding on.
Again, on the way home we hit rain showers. My oldest kept up the positive attitude and the younger ones followed suit. As the pavement became wet, the newest sound behind me became “Squeak, squeak, squeak,” from the floppy wet rubber donut rubbing the pavement. Accompanying this was a chorus of“Rain, rain, go away. Come again another day.”
Getting dropped
We resumed our putt-putt and I became emotional reflecting on how my oldest blossomed as an endurance athlete. All she needed to do was do a lap or two around the yard and she’d have completed her own triathlon.
As I ran out of gears on the final hill, I asked my younger daughter if she’d be willing to cash in on her earlier offer to hop out and run for a little bit. She politely informed me she had changed her mind. It was clear that I literally needed to “unhitch the plow” so when I granted permission for the oldest to take off at her own pace the final mile home, she effortlessly cruised ahead. She ended up biking all the way up the final hill. I witnessed from behind her first-ever ascent up the 200 foot hill without a single stop…clearly the ride hadn’t been too much for her. Fortuitously, I was then passed by a car with the driver (who I knew) shouting “Faster, faster!” to me. I couldn’t help but smile.
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