"The bicycle is the most civilized conveyance known to man. Other forms of transport grow daily more nightmarish. Only the bicycle remains pure in heart." ~Iris Murdoch, The Red and the Green

It was 4:30am on March 20^th, Max’s 10^th birthday. I realize this will make me sound like a terrible procrastinator, but it’s really not all that bad. I had been thinking and planning for a long time. However, past experience taught me that kids are apt to change their minds, a lot.

In this case, the original plans were to fly to Grandpa’s house in Texas for Spring Break which Max started talking about the day he turned 9. However, as his 10^th birthday approached, the plan changed to a birthday party at Flips. The next plan was a sleepover birthday party with three friends. Finally he decided he wanted gifts and dinner with the family. At the last minute, he decided he wanted me to make fruit pizza to share with his class at school. Making purchases too long in advance invariably ends in returning things as plans change…so, at 4:30am on March 20^th, I headed to the store.

My plan was to run out for birthday groceries, then go to Target later in the day to pick up the presents. Heading out the door, I thought ‘I may as well take the car, it’s kind of cold…not that that matters. It’ll be quicker…yeah, right. I will have more room to carry stuff…I can carry 8 2x4 studs and tool bags on the xtracycle – how much room would I need for birthday presents, really?’ What was I thinking? I don’t exactly know, but there you have it. I stepped out the door with car keys in hand and driving on my mind.

It was a crisp gorgeous morning, the sky a deep midnight blue with an indigo halo surrounding a spectacular full moon. I almost decided to just hop on the bike right then. A little voice said ‘Nah, just take the car it’ll be quicker.’ Listening, I got into the Subaru and started the engine. I looked up, I couldn’t see out of the windows; they were covered with frost. Crud! I turned the defroster up to high and got out of the car looking for an ice scraper. All the time thinking, ‘Geez stupid, just get on the bike!’

I found the scraper and started working on the windshield, it didn’t do anything as the frost wasn’t all that hard…too hard to wipe, to soft to scrape. Resigned, I got back in the car waiting for the defroster to do its work. As I sat in the idling car waiting, I felt colder than I remembered feeling in ages.

There are few things in this world colder than a cold car. You are surrounded in this little box of cold metal and plastic waiting for the heat to come and warm you. Space is limited so you can’t generate your own heat by moving your body. Even if you could, you wouldn’t feel warm, because it wouldn’t be sufficient to heat all the frigid metal and plastic that surrounds you. You are forced to wait for the car’s heater to do that for you.

There I sat in the idling car freezing and shivering, peaking at my bike through the tiny line across the bottom of the windshield that had been cleared by the defroster. Thinking, ‘Good gravy, if I’d just taken the bike, I would already be at Broadway and Stadium, less than a mile from my destination. I would be warm from the effort and feeling great from the exercise. But here I am sitting in the car shivering.’

Of course, I could have gotten out of the car at anytime and hopped on my bike. But by this point I was consumed by morbid curiosity trying to understand our car-consumed culture. Most people do this every morning and think I’m crazy for riding my bike everywhere. What gives? I was like a person who sees a horrible car accident and wants to look away, but can’t. So I stuck it out.

I sat waiting for the defroster to do its work. I thought of the gas I was burning at $3.09/gallon, the noxious fumes I was dumping into the environment, and all the extra time I have to work each month to earn the money to pay the car payments, insurance, gas, and maintenance costs, for what? For the privilege of sitting in my driveway freezing my butt off?

Finally, the windows were sufficiently cleared and I was able to leave my driveway. Had I taken my bike, I would have been there already.

I arrived at Hy-Vee and looked across to Wal-Mart. I don’t normally shop at Wal-Mart. I am just not a fan. There are all the standard reasons that pseudo-intellectual white people have for hating Wal-Mart. Ultimately for me, it was a series of really negative shopping experiences(moldy grapes, electronics that worked for less than an hour, clothes that wore out in 45 miutes, rude unaccommodating salespeople, wandering through aisle after aisle of junk unable to find what I need, long checkout lines...I could continue, but you get the point) that finally made me swear off Wal-Mart for good. Well almost for good, every year or so, something will come up that makes me go to Wal-Mart for some reason. Being optimistic by nature, I always think maybe it will be different this time.

As I was approaching Broadway and Fairview, I thought ‘If I go to Wal-Mart and get the gifts and the groceries now. I won’t have to go to Target later. That’d be nice.’ So against my better judgement, I turned into the Wal-Mart parking lot. Maybe it’ll be different this time. I said I was an optimist, remember?

My first mistake was parking by the north doors; they are locked until 6am. I walked over to the south door, right next to the bike rack…oh the irony. Walking into the south door, I was met by the greeter – for lack of a better word. He was not the kindly elderly person in the ugly blue vest that meets you during regular business hours. This was a big t-shirt clad gum smacking scary looking guy who glared at me with arms crossed over his chest challenging me to steal something. I smiled meekly and said "Hello". He just continued to glare at me smacking away on his gum and grunting what I assumed was a greeting. I should have turned around right then.

I headed to the toy department in the deep recesses of the store. On the way there I passed several cardboard cut-out Nascar drivers smiling down at me in their sponsor ladden jumpsuits leaning on their gleaming cardboard cars. This is really weird. I turned a corner and jumped as I came face to face with two huge WWF wrestlers tearing their shirts off promising to pummel me from their poster rack. I finally made it to the toy department. They didn’t have one of the Lego sets I needed, and the other two were five dollars cheaper at Target. Strike out number one.

I thought about just leaving at this point, but the thought of passing that burly greeter without any packages sort of scared me, would he think I stole something if I hadn’t bought anything? ‘Surely I will have better luck in the grocery section.’ I told myself though past experience indicated otherwise.

I made my way through groceries and found most of what I was looking for, I would be able to make due without the rest.  Maybe that's what Wal-Mart is trying to teach us: how to make due without the things we do need by substituting those things with a lot of crap we don't need...a valuable survival lesson in this day and age. I made my purchases and headed home in my very cold car berating myself for driving on such a gorgeous morning. Once my friend, Michelle, told me "When I am in my car and I see someone on their bike, I wish I was on my bike. When I am on my bike, I am glad I’m on my bike." I know what she means.

01/29/08

When I woke up at 6am that morning, the temperature was in the 50s. Max, Annarose and I rode to school in t-shirts and jeans. By 3pm, it was extremely cold and miserable. I considered taking the car to pick up the kids, but why? It was 13 degrees, the wind-chill was –3 with what the weatherfolk like to call a ‘wintry mix’, and northwesterly winds gusting up to 50 mph. Who wouldn’t want to ride bikes in this?

I arrived at school with the requisite winter riding gear: coats, snow-pants, balaclavas, gloves, mittens, goggles, and blaze orange hunting vests. The kids bundled up as I gave them the winter cycling safety lecture.

"The roads are slick. Ride slowly. You will take longer to stop. Be aware of cars, they take longer to stop too. The wind is very gusty and can make your bike hard to control. Keep your bike under control at all times." I lectured.

"Yeah, yeah Mom, we know" was their bored reply.

We headed to the Getabout Offices to pick up some paperwork. It was a short, but eventful journey. The kids were surprised by how disorienting the blowing snow was - think the Millennium Falcon hyper-space scene from Star Wars with snow flakes and ice pellets in place of stars.

When we arrived, Robert ran out with his camera. "Don’t take off your stuff yet! I want to get a picture. You guys are awesome." He told us. We posed for a few pictures, then headed inside, we were met with applause and cheers from Trevor.

We picked up the paperwork, rearranged our clothes, and headed back out into the cold, wind, and snow. As we rode south on Seventh Street, we passed the Candy Factory. I asked the kids if they wanted to stop and get some chocolate for the ride home…dumb question. Of course, we stopped. It was a warm welcome yummy smelling break from the cold and wind. We made our purchases and sat inside eating them, dripping on the floor and enjoying our treats while temporarily delaying the inevitable.

Sweet teeth sated, we headed back out into the brutal. We rode east down the hill on Cherry Street to Flat Branch Park. The force of the westerly wind was amazing. We rode slowly down Cherry Street hill without brakes. The wind was so strong it slowed we had to pedal downhill. I had never experienced anything like it.

As we rode through Flat Branch Park, my phone started ringing…ugh. We stopped in the tunnel under Locust, where we were sheltered from the wind and I returned the call.

It was Tim. "Where are you guys? Are you all right? Do you want me to come get you?"

"We are in the tunnel under Elm St. We are cold, but fine. We will be home soon. If we need help, I will call." I assured my worried husband.

The tunnel was a welcome respite from the snow and wind. We double-checked our clothing. Made sure no skin was exposed to the elements and headed on. Two tunnels to go before we made it to Stewart. When we started on Stewart, there would be no more shelter until we arrived home…a daunting thought. We stopped briefly in each tunnel bracing ourselves.

After stopping in the tunnel under Stewart and Providence, we headed out on Stewart Road. It was hard pedaling and slow going riding directly into the gale force winds. The streets were slick. At West Parkway, Max lost control of his bike and slid into the curb, I slid into Max before I could stop. No one was hurt. We picked up our bikes and kept riding west.

The going was slow and uneventful until Stewart and Greenwood. That was when I noticed that Annarose was crying. Oh no.

"Posie? What’s wrong?" I asked.

"My toes are cold" she answered through her tears. In my rush to gather up their winter gear, I had forgotten their snow boots. Her little toes had to be freezing. What to do? I could call Tim and ask him to come get us. We were only half a mile from home, it would take him longer to come and get us than it would take us to get home if we just kept riding. Having him pick us up would mean waiting longer in the cold. We needed to keep going.

"Posie, we will be home in a few minutes if we keep going. Can you do that? I could call Daddy to come get us in the car, but that will take longer. Can you keep going?" I enquired.

A feeble and tearful "Yes" was her reply.

"I will call Daddy and tell him to make sure and have a big fire going for us when we get home. OK?" I tried to encourage her.

"OK…and cocoa?"

"Yes Sweetie and cocoa and warm cozy blankets. Does that sound good?" I replied.

"Yes Mommy" she sniffled.

By this time we were at West Blvd…almost home. I started singing silly songs to take her mind off the miserable cold, snow, and sleet.

"Oh! Mares eee doats and does eee doats and little lambs eee divy. A kid’ll eee divy too, wouldn’t you?" I sang at the top of my lungs. We made the intersection of West Blvd and West Broadway, less than a quarter mile left.

"Mommy, will you teach me that song when we get home?" Posie asked.

"Of course, and we’ll have hot cocoa and hugs and snuggles in front of the fire" I promised.

We made it home. Being a faster, stronger, more competent rider than Annarose, Max had beaten us home by a few minutes. Tim already had him snuggled up in dry clothes. A warm fire and big hugs from Daddy welcomed us. We took off Annarosie’s cold wet shoes and rubbed her little feet until they felt better. We spent the evening snuggled up by the fire playing board games and reminiscing about the cold miserable ride home in the blizzard. We were proud of ourselves for making it through and we were so very thankful for our warm snug house.

The next morning, I woke up and listened to the weather report…bitter cold. "OK kids, it’s 4 degrees outside this morning. Do you want to ride or drive?"

"Is it windy?" Max asked.

"Nope. No wind, no snow, no sleet, just extremely cold." I replied.

"We can do that. Let’s ride!" They whooped in unison.

"Mom, I am changing my motto from ‘suck it up and deal’ to ‘It could always be worse!’" ~Annarose Overshiner, age 7

Last Thursday evening, the kids and I went to a GetAbout meet and greet at Reilly’s Grill One-5 downtown. The forecast for the evening called for rain. It had started to rain a bit, but it was not too bad when we arrived around 5:15. By 6:30, it was raining pretty hard. I didn’t want to ride in the dark in the rain with the kids, so we left for home.

The temperature was in the high 30s. We had winter coats, but no rain gear. It promised to be a cold wet ride home, at least it was still somewhat light. We braced ourselves and set out for home. We had a lot of fun riding through puddles and the water in the tunnels on our way to Stewart Road.

As we headed west on Stewart, Annarose was in rare form enjoying herself by making the best of a bad situation.

She called back to me, "Hey Mom!"

"Yes Posie, What’s up?" I asked.

"I decided I am changing my motto from ‘suck it up and deal’ to ‘it could always be worse!’" she called over her shoulder and started laughing.

I laughed along with her and replied "Wow! Posie that’s a great way to look at life when things aren’t going your way!"

"Do you know what I like about riding in the rain, Mom?" she asked.

"I can’t imagine, what?" I asked.

"When it’s raining, it doesn’t matter if I forget to put an ankle biter on, because my pants stick to my legs and don’t get caught in my chain!" she replied with a giggle.

I looked down and saw that her pants were plastered to her legs with rainwater. "Yep Posie, that’s a great observation!" I called with a smile.

"You know what else I like about riding in the rain, Mom?"

"I don't know, Posie.  What?" I asked bemused by this silly game that took my mind off of being cold and wet.

"If you pee in your pants no one can tell!" she replied.

"That’s true. You didn’t, did you?" I enquired with a chuckle.

"Of course not! But if I did, it would warm me up. That’d be a good thing too." She called with glee.

"That’s true, Posie. You sure are a smart kid!" I encouraged her.

That was the end of her philosophical musings, so we started singing silly songs and telling jokes the rest of the way home. All in all, it was a really good ride despite the approaching darkness, cold, and wet.  It just goes to show, it could always be worse, and with the right attitude ‘worse’ can be quite a lot of fun.

Kid’s responses when we pointed out LCDC was almost over:

"It was a piece of pie." ~Annarose Overshiner, Age 7

"What? It’s over? So? Big deal." ~Max Overshiner, Age 9

Well LCDC2 is over. We did the Business Traveler taking one weekend car trip to follow the Tour of Missouri to JC and on into St. Louis. Driving the car to see the bikes, hmmm. That was an awesome weekend! We took the bikes with us and rode around St. Louis. We rode from the Chase at the corner of Kingshigway and Lindell to Union Station to see the races. The kids got their t-shirts autographed by loads of racers, including Alberto Contador (Tour de France, 2007). The racers were really accessible and friendly. When we told them that we rode our bikes to school everyday, several of them said that was how they got started with cycling. Max returned home from the races with the need for speed and often sprints up Maupin on his way home now.

One super cool thing, as we made our way back up Lindell, which was part of the race course, we were allowed to ride on the course while the racers were in other parts of the city. The course was a 10.6 mile loop. The race officials just told us to get off the road when we saw the lead vehicle coming. So on that Sunday afternoon, we had Lindell all to ourselves. We rode serpentine down Lindell crossing back and forth across six traffic lanes, just because we could. We offered autographs to the bystanders, but they weren’t very interested. When the racers came around, we would get up on the sidewalk to cheer them on, then back in the street when they passed.

It was amazing getting to ride in St. Louis with Tim and the kids. After all, St. Louis is where I really started riding seriously for transportation, where I bought my first bike cart to haul baby Max in, where I rode my first Critical Mass, and where I became aware of and involved in cycling advocacy. It was a bit of a homecoming for me to get to ride those streets again sharing it with Tim and the kids on their own bikes made it really special. It was so cool to point out the cycling improvements that have occurred in St. Louis over the six years since we moved away. Remembering sitting around with fellow massers talking about ways to improve cycling in St. Louis and dreaming about starting the St. Louis Regional Bicycle Federation, then seeing what they have done…too cool. But I digress. After reading Eric’s blog about his experience going to Tour of MO in St. Louis, I kind of wish we had tried the train thing….looking back it would have been totally doable. Live and learn. There is always next year.

Our days pretty much went like this. Ride the bikes to school, drop off the kids, ride to work, pickup the kids, goof off downtown, ride on home or wherever we needed to go…piano, friend’s house, store, Klunk, whatever. On the weekends, do whatever we wanted to do on the bikes. First weekend, ride to Katfish Katy’s to go camping (No Rachel, they don’t always have parties until 3am. Also, if you camp over the levy…sites #29 and 31A are especially nice…that dampens the noise quite a lot. We bike camp there frequently.) Second weekend, downtown a lot for the Roots-n- Blues-n-BBQ-where’s-the-BBQ?-Festival. Third weekend, drive to JC and St. Louis for Tour of Missouri. Awed by racers. Ride in St. Lou. Fourth weekend, hang around the house mostly. Fifth weekend, hang around home, relax.

Yesterday, Tim, Annarose and I rode to Westlake’s with the bike cart and bought mums and pumpkins for the front yard. We fit five pots of mums in the bike cart, a pumpkin in my collapsible basket, a pumpkin in Tim’s bike trunk, two small pumpkins in his panniers, and a pot of mums in Annarose’s basket. What a lovely way to ride. In the afternoon, Tim and I went on a date. We left the bikes home and walked downtown, holding hands and chatting the whole way. The afternoon was bright, breezy and warm, a lovely day for a walk. Walking, your pace is much slower than on a bike, you really get to see and appreciate things you miss whizzing by at 10 mph. Getting there and home were all as much a part of the date, as the date itself. In the evening, the four of us walked to Gerbes for ice cream and videos.

To sum up, it was a great month. With the exception of Max not being able to go to Michael’s house, his best friend lives 16 miles south of town, and one or two work related things, the car has not been missed. In fact, we have been toying with the idea of selling it since last May, when we realized that we just don’t need it. With the exception of August, when we drove pretty much, because it was so hot and miserable, we only drive about once a week and that’s more out of a feeling of obligation than anything. We’re making car payments; we might as well use it.

I tried talking to the kids about selling the family car yesterday. I didn’t want them to feel they had no say in the matter, even though they really don’t. Annarose’s response was: "Yeah, yeah, you’ve been talking about that for months, so just go ahead and sell it alreay." Max is more sentimental: "We’ve had some good times in that car. It’s kind of like a member of the family." Of course, this is also the kid who complains of carsickness every time we take trips longer than five miles - "Can’t we go home and get the bikes? I feel like I have to throw up. I hate being cooped up in the car." We will still have the work truck. As long as none of us gains much weight, we can all fit if necessary. For long trips, we can always rent a car or take a train, plane, bus. What the hell? We can just take the bikes, or our feet, for that matter.

If you know anyone who might be interested in buying a really nice zippy little late model (2005), low mileage Subaru Impreza that’s still under warranty. Let me know.

"Whether you think you can, or you think you can’t, you’re right." ~Henry Ford.

"Life is a smorgasbord and most poor bastards are starving to death." ~Lucille Ball in Mame…I think.

From time to time, I get into conversations with parents about cycling with my kids. We talk about where we ride, just about everywhere. How far we ride, pretty far sometimes…I think 27 miles is our highest single day mileage to date. We talk about the weather conditions we ride in…all – temperatures over 90 and under 20, snow, rain, wind, hail. We talk about their ages, 7 & 9. The other parents are always impressed that my kids do these things.

More often than not, the response I get from the other parent is "Wow! My kids could never do that!" Invariably I think, "You’re right. Your kids could never do that, because you just said so." These are not parents of children with disabilities or health problems; they are parents of children with very unimaginative parents. It saddens me that so many kids, and people in general, are limited simply by the fact that someone (often themselves) told that they can’t do that…and they believed it.

One thing I have learned riding bikes with my kids is that you can do anything (within the confines of the laws of physics) if you really want to, you give your self a little extra time, and you remember to pack some water and snacks. We ride to and from school daily on our bikes. We run errands on our bikes. We go to friend’s houses on our bikes. We go to the movies on our bikes. We go camping on our bikes.

When it’s hot, we sweat. When it’s cold, we bundle up. When it rains, we get wet. Big deal. Regardless of the conditions or the distance, we always manage to get back home where we belong. Sometimes we wish we were home "Right now!" but we’re not…so we keep going till we are. When we are especially miserable: we make up games like who can make the best barfing noises. Or songs like "If I ever lose my brain, I’d ride my bike, in the rain". Or sit down and rest for a bit. Or fantasize about how warm and cozy we’ll be when we finally make it home. Or we just keep going "only a few more miles, we can do that!"

I am always amazed at what my kids can do when I give them the chance. Ironically, the worst experiences are the ones that have become part of our family lore, like veterans and their war stories. There’s the time Annarosie and I got caught riding home in a hailstorm when she was 4. She was crying and yelling "ouchie" as hailstones pelted her. I kept assuring her "Hang on sweetie. We’ll be home soon." As we rode through the rain choked streets, I could barely see, because of the rain and the tears. My heart was breaking as I listened to AR cry and I questioned my sanity for riding bikes so much with the kids – we avoid riding in hail at all costs now, lesson learned. The time we got caught 5 miles from home as a cold front moved in. We made our way through the blustering wind and driving rain fantasizing about hot cocoa while making barfing noises, as we made our slow and chilly progress across town. The time Max’s crank froze up on the Katy trail at 11:30PM as we rode back to Katfish Katys from Rocheport. Tim encouraged Annarose and I to ride on to camp. He and Max walked the three miles back sharing stories and observations about how scary the trail looked in the moonlight. It isn’t always quick or predictable or comfortable or fun. But neither is life.

My kids aren’t super human or unusual or anything like that; they are just kids who have been given the chance. If your kids "Could never do that!" It’s probably, because you have never given them the chance. You should, you might be amazed. I always am.

As you may have gathered by now, my kids and I ride bikes to school each day with a group of cycling parents (a.k.a. The Lee School Bike Brigade). We average 11 bikes, three with bike carts, each day. Somedays there are as many as 20 of us, on one or two occasions there have been more. We ride together in a pack for fun and safety. We are NOT hard to see, actually we are quite hard to miss. Up until last week, we had not really had any problems with cars to speak of.

For some reason, starting last week, Thursday, to be exact, the gasholes were out. They seemed to be everywhere. I don’t know if there is some special gashole season or if the change of weather has brought out the worst in car drivers. Maybe they are mad at us, because we get to have fun enjoying the wonderful fall mornings. While they are cooped up in their cars. Whatever the reason, we seem to be dealing with them almost daily. It makes riding somewhat less pleasant and more dangerous than usual.

Our first run in was last Thursday, 09/20/07. I messed up my coffee to food ratio that morning and was feeling amped and jittery by the time the kids and I headed out for school. I was really hoping the morning ride would help calm me a bit. We met up with Erika and Violet at West Blvd and Stewart, then over to Maupin and Greenwood to meet up with Mark, Sid, Simon, Jody, and Jasper. It was a lovely morning. We had a nice time chatting as we rode. We made our way to East Parkway and Crestmere to meet up with Shannon, Pete, and Lily, then on to school.

We rode the tunnels, exiting on Elm, like we do everyday. We rode up Elm in single file, careful to leave room for cars to pass, while bunching to take the lane at intersections. At the Elm and Hitt, we patiently waited for a safe opening to turn left. This is a complicated intersection, because the cross traffic on Hitt does not stop. And you are on an uphill incline making it harder to get started on a bike, especially if you are 6 or 7 or 9 or 11. We patiently waited and waited. The traffic on Hitt was heavier than usual this morning for some reason. As soon as it would clear one direction, three more cars would appear coming from the other direction.

Just as we were about to make the turn, Gashole #1 (black four door sedan), decided he’d waited long enough and pulled up on the left side of us, in the parking lane, to go around. Apparently, he just couldn’t wait any longer. He had to stop, because of the oncoming traffic. We all started yelling at him "Hey that’s illegal. You need to wait your turn!" He looked over, as did the little boy in the back seat of his car. The driver, Dad, would not acknowledge us, but pulled out really fast to get away from us.

We were incensed. After a quick nod of agreement from the rest of the Bike Brigade parents, I took chase. I stood in the pedals and cranked hard. I followed him up to Locust where he turned right, toward Lee School. Apparently, he was taking the little boy to Lee, CIS, or CDC, three schools right at the intersection of Waugh and Locust. I was sure I could catch him. I would explain about cyclist’s rights to the road and why what he had done was really dangerous. I would ask that he please just give us the time we need at the intersection next time. He turned left on Waugh. I felt sure I could catch up to him. He was trapped in a series of school zones, but I lost him. Dang! If only I hadn’t been pulling the trailer.

I returned to school to inform everyone that I hadn’t caught him, but did get the license plate number and would send it along to MO Bike Fed. We discussed other routes from the tunnels up to school. We wanted to avoid that intersection at Hitt and Elm, it just gets too hairy sometimes since the cross street traffic doesn’t stop. We decided to take Elm, Sixth, Locust the next day.

Next day, everything went fine on the way to school and home afterward. AR had a sleepover that evening at Ella’s house in East Campus. We packed up AR’s suitcase and headed over to Ella’s. We took our usual route to school, foregoing the tunnels, in favor of riding Stewart straight up into campus. We crossed campus, getting back on the street at 9^th and University.

We rode east on University from the intersection of 9^th to Hitt, one block from one stop sign to another. As we neared the stop sign at Hitt, I rode out to the left of AR to take the lane. This is a safety move to keep from getting forced into the danger zone between a car and the curb at intersections. As I did this, Gashole #2 (red Jeep Cherokee) pulled out into the oncoming traffic lane to pass me. When he realized that he couldn’t get in front of me, as we were both at the stop sign, he gunned it and raced across the intersection. Thirty seconds later, Annarose and I were sitting behind him at the stop light at University and College. Good thing he saved all that time. I was tempted to knock on his rear window and wave, but didn’t.

Early the following week, the Bike Brigade was approaching school on Locust. Half of us had crossed the intersection at Waugh and Locust and were already in the official school zone. Locust has the right of way here, no stop signs. In one long stream, the rest of Brigade was following close behind. Gashole #3, (white sedan) was waiting to turn left on to Locust from Waugh. She apparently decided that 5 bicycles was the limit on a through street into a school zone. She didn’t have time to wait for the other 6, which were right there. She turned right into the middle of our group of cyclists. Luckily, our kids and parents are good riders and no one got hurt. The clencher? She is a Lee School Mom who was dropping her kids off at the front door…half block in a school zone from where she had been waiting so impatiently.

The next day, Gashole #4, (silver SUV) He pulled up next to us in front of school, then turned right into our line of oncoming cyclists to park his car without turning on his blinker. Max was riding there when he turned, with some quick evasive moves he missed getting hit.

Friday, 09/28/07, in the interest of safety, we had changed our route through downtown yet again. We were all feeling a little less joyful, a little more shaky by this point. We now take the tunnels all the way into to Flat Branch Park and ride up Cherry Street. This is a bit hillier and a bit out of the way, but the kids are all strong enough to handle the hill and the extra distance.

So Friday, as we approached the red-light at the intersection of 9^th and Cherry, we bunched up to take the lane. Some of us were already stopped, while the rest were slowing behind us. Someone called "Car back". No big deal, we were at a red-light after all. Then Gashole #5, (dark green SUV) came up behind us and didn’t stop, but pulled up to pass. I wondered what she was thinking as she came to a stop in the lane next to us, the opposite lane of traffic. Luckily, there were no cars coming that way. Shannon and I knocked on her window. She looked confused, and a little scared, as she tried to get the window open.

Shannon and I said, "Hey, we are taking the lane, because we have a red-light. We are trying to keep ourselves and our kids safe." She looked really confused. "It isn’t safe for us to get caught between a car and a curb at a red-light so we are taking the lane. You should have waited behind us."

"Oh," she replied "I didn’t know that. I am so sorry. I really am."

"It’s OK." We answered, "Thank you for your consideration, we really appreciate it. We really do." ‘Really really appreciate it, you have no idea, how much’ I think to myself.

I recognized her as a local business owner; I am sending her a thank you card.

I am sure that she just wasn’t really paying attention. There were 17 of us riding together that day; a large and very visible group, impossible to miss. I am sure if she had been paying attention and thinking, she would have stopped behind us instead of trying to pass at a red-light. Actually, I am sure most of the drivers we dealt with over the past week or so, are nice people who just weren’t really paying attention.

That’s a big part of the problem though, isn’t it? Inattentive driving. Being in a car separates people from the world around them and makes it easy to be inattentive to what is happening outside. Most of the time it’s not much of problem, but when it is it can be really dangerous.

It’s hard to be inattentive on a bike or when you are walking, because you are moving and interacting with the world around you in a very real way that forces you to stay focused. In a car you are sitting in a little chair in a little moving room not really doing much of anything, but listening to the radio, daydreaming, shaving, putting on make-up, talking on your cell phone, reading, reaching around for something you dropped, eating, cleaning up the coffee you spilled on yourself…

As a society, we are embrace this. Why?

I always try to explain to my kids why I tell them to do the things I tell them to do while we are riding. I explain traffic rules and what to watch for while they are riding. Max has had this stuff drilled into his skull since he started on his own bike three years ago, but it is much newer to AR, who only started riding a two wheeler last June.

The other day Annarose and I were riding along chatting about what really irritates us when we are riding.

Annarose commented, in her ever-eloquent fashion, "I hate when I look over my shoulder and car is just driving along really slow right behind me. Why don’t they just pass me?"

I explained. "Well Posey, they are trying to be helpful. They think that by slowing down for you they are being nice. Unfortunately, they don’t realize how dangerous it is, because it makes the cars behind them think that the cyclist is holding up traffic, when it is really the car that won’t pass that causes the problems. I’m sure they don’t know annoying it is."

She said "I hate it. I mean who wants a big, ugly, polluting hunk of metal with four wheels riding right on your tail!"

After Wednesday off, due to a school field trip with Max’s fourth grade class, I was working in McBaine again. After multiple trips there and back, I finally have it figured out.

I fueled up with high fiber cereal, two squares of chocolate, an apple, a hard-boiled egg, a cup of coffee, and lots of water.

I herded the kids out the door for our daily ride to school. After a heated discussion (a.k.a. – Gina’s tirade about cycling and cars – watch for the transcript here soon) with fellow cycling parent’s after which my friend, Esther, gently teased me that I really need to get an issue I feel passionate about. I stopped by the bank to deposit a check, set my stopwatch, and headed out for McBaine.

With a Camelbak full of water, my ipod playing my favorite tunes and my passions stirred with memories of my morning soapbox exposition and related thoughts. After my tirades, I always find myself reviewing everything, and regretting of, what I said thinking about what I said wrong and worrying about who I offended wishing I would learn to keep my big mouth shut. Hasn’t happened yet. Unfortunately as I move deeper into my forties the chances of my suddenly gaining control and composure are looking slimmer and slimmer. I was stoked and ready to ride hard. It is amazing how a fire in your belly can make you perform better physically. It was great to get out on the trail and just crank. Surprisingly, the trail was quite empty and I was able to ride fast without passing many folks along the way.

I made it to the jobsite in 40 minutes; 4 minutes better than my fastest time! That included the long steep third mile climb up the gravel driveway from the river bottoms to the top of the bluffs over looking said bottoms. As well as one major slow down to let an oncoming cyclist pass while maneuvering around a retired couple and their dog on the trail. This is an average of about 20-mph. It’s amazing what you can do when you aren’t pulling a tool-laden trailer. I ran to tell Tim and the guys about my amazing time. They weren’t as excited as I was, go figure.

I took my milk crate of work clothes, boots, and sunscreen out of the shed and went around back to change and slather up with sunscreen for a day of working in the sun. This jobsite is in the country; it is one of only four houses on a family farm of 150+ acres. When changing from cycling clothes to work clothes, I find a secluded spot behind an out building or a clump of trees, strip down and change. In case you hadn’t figured it out, I am not high maintenance…multiple seasons fighting forest fires greatly decreased my dependence on modern ‘conveniences’.

I spent much of the day hauling supplies, 2x8s, 2x6s, 4x4s, and bags of mortar for the deck construction. Steve, Mike and I found a shady spot and sat on the ground for lunch. Tim was at Lowe’s returning some extra lumber and picking up more joist hangers. He took the truck; the lumber returns were too long for me to haul in the bike cart. I had packed a high protein, complex carb laden, low fat/low sugar lunch. High performance foods for the ride back to town. As I unpacked my lunch Steve said "Let me guess. Sardines, almonds, cheese, hard boiled egg and an apple."

Stupidly stunned by my culinary predictability, after all this is what I eat everyday, "Close," I replied somewhat defensively, "But I have oysters, not sardines, and don’t forget the crackers."

Tim returned with joist hangers, deep-fried chocolate puddings pies, and ice cold Cokes. Yummy. The pie brought back fond memories of fire camp. Firefighting is labor intensive, the forestry service advises you to consume at least 5,000-6,000 calories a day…not as easy, nor as fun, as it sounds. Everyday in fire camp they gave us these sack lunches made of high calorie, highly processed (fresh fruits and vegetables don’t keep well), government surplus foods. One year, they packed frozen burritos wrapped in foil each day with little packets of salsa. We couldn’t figure out the logic, were we supposed to put them in the fire to cook? Partially thawed freezer burritos are really yucky; you should try one sometime or you can take my word for it. But I digress. I didn’t want to risk being sick to my stomach for the ride home, so I had half a Coke and a small part of a chocolate pie.

The ride back to town was almost as good as the ride out, I made it in 43 minutes, my second best time, despite the heat and fatigue from working all day. Woo-hoo. Picked up my kiddos and headed home.

We stopped at Main Squeeze for smoothies and cookies. They have a new vegan peanut butter cookie with little chocolate kisses all over the top. It is amazing…great flavor, soft but not gooey cakey texture. You have to try one. Unless you have a peanut allergy, which could be dangerous; in that case, stay away from them. After Main Squeeze, we walked across the street to 9^th Street Video…the best video shop in the world. They have just about every movie you could ever imagine; not like the big chains that have 20 copies of every block buster film of the last six months but not much else. After getting our movies (Triplets of Belleville, The Buster Keaton Collection, and Buster Keaton and Harold Lloyd – in case you were wondering). We headed down to the tunnels and home with a detour at the new park between Locust and Elm. It’s a big hit with all of us. Thanks City.

"Never underestimate the ability of a few caring people to change the world, indeed that’s all that ever has." ~ Margaret Mead.

I just wanted to share this cool thing with everyone; because, well it’s cool and it involves 9 LCDC participants, and a few folks who deserve some recognition. As you probably know by now, there are 44 participants in this year’s LCDC. Did you know that 9 of them (20%) are Lee School students and parents?

On the first day of last school year, Max, Annarose and I decided to try to ride to school and home on our bikes everyday. We bought a map of the USA and charted our daily miles in hopes of making it to New York City by the end of the school year.* There were several other Lee School families who rode their bikes frequently as well. For Bike, Walk, and Wheel Week last year, I talked the families I knew who lived between our house and school into riding to school together each day that week.

During BWWW, we averaged 16 moms, dads, and kids riding to school together each day. It was so cool to look around and see all those bikes riding down the street each morning. We had parents with kids in carts and on tag-a-longs, kids on their own bikes, and parents riding along keeping an eye out for everyone. I felt sad thinking ahead to the end of the week, when everyone would go back to their regular routines of driving their kids to school. But guess what? No one did, everyone finished out the last three weeks of the school year riding together.

Sid (7) and Simon’s (11) dad, Mark, re-arranged his work schedule so that he could ride to school with his boys, because they liked it so much. Each morning, Mark would (and still does this year), leave early to go to the office, then ride back home to get the boys, ride them to school, then ride back to work for the rest of the day. That’s dedication.

The best part? When I emailed everyone at the beginning of this school year about riding together, they all wanted to do it again. We started the school year riding together. Mark is doing the same crazy morning back and forth, four days a week so he can ride with his boys. Three of the kids who were on tag-a-longs last year are on their own bikes this year. We have some new families who have joined us this year. We average 13 folks riding each day, but have had as many as 20 riding together. One morning as we arrived at school, a friend called out "Here comes the bike brigade." The name stuck.

In addition to our little westside bike brigade, there are many other students riding to school these days with their parents. The bike rack that used to empty most days is full every day with kids parking their bikes along the fence, because there isn’t enough room. Dr. Vandover, our principal, has offered to request a second rack. Each day after school, the bike rack is the place to be with kids and parents visiting while gearing up for the ride home.

Nine of this year’s LCDC participants are bike brigade members who ride to school together each morning and home together many afternoons. They are Violet (10) and Erika Kroll; Chad, Pete (6), Lily (3), and Shannon Cannfield; Max (9), Annarose (7), and me. Mark, Sid and Simon’s dad, tried to participate, but prior commitments precluded it. Jody, Jasper’s dad, is new to Lee this year and joins us each morning after dropping off his younger son at Montessori school. Jody wanted to participate, but some work commitments prohibited it. Despite not being able to participate officially, these guys ride most everywhere on their bikes with very few exceptions.

*Due to the heavy snows and extreme cold last winter, we had to drive quite a bit in Jan and Feb. We didn’t make NYC, but we did make it to Pittsburgh - 850 miles, approximately 150 short of our destination

I was up and out the door by five this morning, I had to run over to a jobsite to pick up some tools and materials I needed. I love being up and out before dawn on these cool fall mornings. The sky was still velvety blue and full of stars, the eastern horizon had not even started to lighten up yet. The weather was cool and exhilarating.

I still can't believe August is really over. August was hell this year. It was so hot. We worked outside everyday, sweating in the 100+ heat for weeks on end.  Normally, I get up and run at 5AM, but this August, I quit. It was just too demoralizing to walk outside at 5:15 to find the temperature and humiditiy already in the high seventies. Knowing this was the coolest part of the day, knowing I would be working and sweating all day as it got hotter and hotter, just got to be too much. I took a running sabbatical. I kept telling myself September would come and with it cooler weather. I am still have difficulty believing it is really happening.

Being out on this wonderful cool morning riding my bike and feeling chilly outside was especially invigorating. I got to the jobsite, collected the tools I needed, and headed quickly back home to wake the kids. Today was Max’s first day of choir and we had to be at school by 7:45. We had plans to meet Violet and Erika at 7 so we could go downtown for breakfast. I dropped Max at school, leaving AR and I with an hour to kill.

We wandered around downtown looking in shop windows and chatting about stuff. It was so nice to have some Mommy – Posey time before school. Unfortunately, the phone kept ringing. In case you hadn’t figured it out, Tim and I run a our own business, a little remodeling and renovation company. We were currently working on two jobs.  I was scheduled to start another this morning.  Despite the invasion on my time with Annarose, I had to take the calls.  I am one of the bosses and that’s was you do, especially when things are not going as well as they should...the grout cracked again, we don’t have enough lumber, pieces are missing from the tub kit, the enamel isn't curing right...and on and on. So much for Mommy – Posey time, sorry kiddo.

After dropping Posey at school, I headed home to pick up some bills I needed to mail. I looked at my odometer, somehow I had already ridden 10 miles and it wasn’t even 9...what’s up with that? I mailed the bills and headed off toward the jobsite. I debated which route to take...Ash or Chapel Hill? Taking Ash, I could avoid riding up Chapel Hill, one of the tougher hills in town. I was hauling a fully loaded trailer after all – toolbox, DeWalt screwgun, 16ft extension pole, two gallons of paint, tuckpointing tools, paint brushes, tool belt, messenger bag, etc...easily a hundred pounds.  Honestly, I’d have to be a fool or a masochist to take the Chapel Hill route. Hmmm, what to do? What to do?

I’ll take Chapel Hill, what the hell? As I was heading down West Blvd, I passed a guy on his bike on his way to work probably. If I had to guess by his headgear (non-Sam Adams beer brand baseball cap), the extremely low set of his seat, his leisurely pace, his riding posture (completely upright with his arms crossed and hands tucked into his armpits) and the crappy make of his bike (it was a Murffy...Murray – Huffy), he was a ‘bars to bars’ guy. You know? Honky tonk bars to handle bars after one DWI too many. I know, I know, that sounds extremely snooty and high falootin’ of me.  After umpteen years in the saddle and four years as an Investigator for the St. Louis County Medical Examinern's Office, you learn to read folks and their bikes. Being a proponent of friendly roads, I called "Good Morning" as I passed.

Shortly after passing Mr. Murffy, I was passed by another cyclist. He had LCDC written all over him. Quality bike (I don’t know the brand, but I recognize good geometry when I see it...this clearly was no department store ride), the gear – messenger bag, racing helmet, fancy space age sunglasses, clothes – street, light jacket...probably constructed from some lightweight high performance fabric...jeans rolled at the cuffs to keep them out of the chain and to expose red cycling socks. By the looks of him, I guessed it was Mike Denehey or one of his friends. He stayed about a block ahead of me.  I kept him in my sites, we were obviously headed to the same place.  I caught him at the Ped crossing at Stadium and Forum ready to ask the question whose answer I already knew.

I rolled up next to him waiting for the light, before I could speak, he looked over and asked "Are you doing the Low Car Challenge?"
 
"Yeah" I replied, "You?"

"Yeah."

"What’s your name?" I asked.

"Eric" he replied. One of Mikes’ friends, I knew it!

I told him I’d enjoyed reading his blog. We chatted a bit waiting for the light to change, made our crossing, and headed our separate ways.

I took Mills (one light south of Forum/Stadium intersection) over to Chapel Hill, avoiding the Forum/Chapel Hill intersection and shaving a little distance. I headed down Chapel Hill Rd toward Fairview. I picked up speed going down Chapel Hill. I wondered how fast I could go with all that extra weight, so I started pedaling really fast down the hill watching my speedometer climb as I excellerated on my descent. My previous fastest speed was 29.6, I watched the speedometer climb...30, 31, 33, 36...Ring, Ring, Ring. God damn this cell phone! I kept watching the speedometer ignoring the phone to answer it now would be suicide, or worse.  I might have a wreck and hurt my bike. 37, 38.4! Wow! What a rush.  The phone kept ringing as I crossed the bridge at the bottom of the hill.  I comtemplated throwing the cell phone in the creek, but with my luck someone would find it and return it to me, so why bother? We all have our crosses to bear.

Going up the other side toward Fairview was much slower. I watched my speedometer descend almost as quickly as it had excellerated mere minutes before. 29.6...25...20...18...10...7...4.5 and hold steady there the rest of the way up the hill.  I kept my head down, eyes on the road, and pedaled.  Every few moments I would venture a glace up.  How close am I to that next road?  Can I see the stop sign at the top yet?  When you can see the stop sign you know you're about half way there.  Thus I guaged my slow painful progress.  Pedal, gasp, pedal, gasp, pedal, gasp.

I made it to the jobsite.  I reached for my phone to see who had called.  My hand came up empty.  What?  Where is it?  Nowhere, my phone was gone!  Hooray!  OK, I knew where I had lost it, because I last heard it ring as I crossed the bridge at the bottom of Chapel Hill.  I prepared to disconnect the bike cart and head back down, when Dave volunteered to go get it.  Not one to refuse a kindness, I let him.  He returned less than five minutes later with my phone...dang.

We were doing final touch up work on an exterior paint job we had finished in August and staining the deck.  This house is near the intersection of Chapel Hill and Fairview, it is built into the side of a very steep hill.  You can stand in the back yard, look directly ahead, and see the bottom of the gate...it's steep.  The house itself is tall - three stories on the back.  Of course, we didn't miss anything on the low easy to reach parts of the house.  We only had a few small touchup spots, but, of course, they were all approximately 35 feet in the air...I call them the 'high icky bits'.  I had to use a sixteen foot extension pole while standing on top of a twenty four foot ladder to do the touch up.  I don't know if you have ever been lucky enough to do this type of work, but it's rather awkward.  There isn't a lot of room on top of a twenty four foot ladder.  I was working with two different paint colors, and rollers and brushes.  I spent a lot of the day climbing up and down the ladder with tools and paint.

Joe's (Max's friend) dad called to see if Max could play with Joe after school.  I told him that would be fine, Max could ride home with them on his bike.  Joe has been riding to school with his mom and dad...good for you guys!  Curtis, Joe's dad, said he had to go out later in the evening to pick someone up and could bring Max home then.  I told him that I would need to come get Max on the bike, because he couldn't go in the car.  I explained about the LCDC.  "Oh." Curtis replied, "Well." We often get this kind of confused response, when making plans with friends during LCDC.  People don't exactly know what to do or think about it.  They usually think it's cool, but don't really grasp that you can't go in a car at all.  I suggested that Joe ride home with us, and then Curtis could come pick him up at our house.  That seemed OK, but Curtis was going to puzzle it out more.  One of the key components in living car free is thinking and planning things out.  We'd talk later at school.

I rode over to the mall to run an errand over lunch.  I worked the rest of the afternoon, up and down the ladder, again and again.  At three, I headed to school to pick up the kids.  Again, I contemplated routes.  Ash?  Chapel Hill?  Being flatter, Ash would be easiest, probably quickest too.  Chapel Hill would be harder, only an idiot would take Chapel Hill.  I wondered, is the hill steeper east to west or west to east?  In the interest of science, I headed for Chapel Hill.  Having unloaded the extension poles, paint cans, tuckpointing tools, and brushes, the job trailer was about forty pounds lighter than it was this morning. This would mean my descent would be a bit slower.  As I pedaled, I wondered if the weight reduction would be compensated for by the decreased wind resistance, after all I didn't have the extension pole sticking out of the top of the cart now. 
To compensate for the reduced weight, I pedaled hard down the hill.  30...32..33...34...35.4  I topped out at 35.4mph going west to east.  As I made my slow progress up the other side, I wondered, are the hills the same or not?  East to west was seems steeper.  Really there were too many variables in the experiment to make an accurate assessment today.  Well, there's always tomorrow, I assured myself.

I arrived at school to pick up the kids.  Curtis was there on his bike.  "I decided I would ride to your house with you, so I know where to pick Joe up later.   This will also give me the chance to get a few more miles in." Curtis explained.  'A few more miles in', "Wow" I thought, "What a concept."  I was just under 25 miles for the day and really didn't care if I got a few more in or not. Sometimes I really take for granted how much exercise I have built into my days by biking everywhere instead of driving.  We headed home taking the tunnels to Stewart, Garth to East Parkway, around to Maupin.  The best street ever.  Through the pinch point on West Blvd/Broadway.  I stopped before the pinch points and explained to Joe how we navigate safely through each one.  Then I had him follow Max while Posey, Curtis, and I took the rear.  We arrived safely home.  Joe, Max, and Posey had a great time playing outside until it was time for Joe to go home.

I awoke around 4:30 to the sound of rain, heavy rain. OK, looks like it’ll be a wet day, I thought to myself. Around 6:30, I realized we were out of milk...Dang, meant to pick that up last night on the way home from Twilight Festival, but it was too late.

I got dressed in my work clothes and headed off the Gerbes for milk and some groceries. Got home, woke everyone up, and got them ready for the day...typical morning stuff.

By the time we left for school, it was muggy and damp, but not actually raining. The ride to school was fun as usual, lots of puddles to ride through. (See AR’s entry for more).

I dropped the kids at school and headed to work on Worley. It was one of those days. Nothing went as it was supposed to. We opened the faucets, and they were the wrong ones. The grout was all streaky, we had to re-do it. Mike drove over to Lowe’s to get new faucets and grout. Before lunch, we opened the new medicine cabinet...it was broken, ARRGH! I can’t even tell you how often this stuff happens! I have such a love/hate relationship with the big box home improvement retailers, but we won’t go there.

At lunch, I rode over to Westlake’s for a replacement medicine cabinet and window covering. They only had one medicine cabinet, it was broken. They had stopped carrying the window coverings I needed. It was a total waste of time. I rode back to the house and sent Mike back to Lowe’s in his truck to get the stuff.

I got the usual ribbing about being car free, "Why don’t you go get it on your bike? Hahaha" Dave teased. "Well" I replied, "I could if you want, but it will take about 10 minutes longer. Given everything that’s already gone wrong today we are pretty tight on time. Besides, I’m the boss...so shut it."

I worked till 3:15, still time to make it to school by 3:30 to pick up the kids. I had to stop on the way out the door to answer some questions and get the guys lined out for the rest of the day. I was walking out the door at 3:20, if I ride fast I could make it on time. 3:21, phone rings, it’s Jim, the homeowner. I have to talk to him, give him a progress report. He’s been out of town all week, he’s one of our favorite clients, he’s a great guy, we have done loads of work on his house. I really have to take this call. I’ll try to be quick and shouldn’t be too late to pick up the kids.

The call takes some time, Jim’s mom died last night, I offer my condolensces and we discuss losing a parent. I give him the progress report and we line out stuff for next week. Given the circumstances, I can’t cut the conversation short. I get off the phone, it’s 3:35, I can still make it by 3:45, not too terribly late.

I walk out and hop on my bike, I start down the driveway. It feels really wrong. This isn’t just me bonking and hoping for a flat, so I don’t have to acknowledge my major weenie-ness. This is really wrong. I look down, my front tire is completely flat. We are talking pancake, no air what-so-ever. I have my micro-pump and a spare tube, but no spoons.

Shot! Truck! Big adrenaline dump. What to do!? I am already late, I don’t have time to change the tire, fix the flat. Why is this happening! Not again, I had like five flats during LCDC last year, not again, please. OK. Gina. Think! OK, OK. Take off the job trailer (a.k.a.-bike cart with work sign on back), pump up tire. Yeah, that’s a good idea.

Maybe I can ride it to school, pick up the kids, and ride it over to Klunk, if I can just keep it pumped up and keep my weight over the back tire. OK, OK, ummm, breathe. I try to pump up the tire, but I can’t get the freaking pump to work. Look at it. It’s set up for presta valves, I have schraders on this tube. Fumble, fumble, cuss, get it turned around, try to pump up the tire. It’s getting later. I don’t have time for this, have to get the kids. If only there was someone I could call. I still can’t get the pump to work.

Finally, I get the pump attached. I think of someone to call. Sid and Simon’s dad, Mark they ride all the time. He has a cell phone and he will be at school. I can have him get the kids and I can get them after I get the tire fixed. I should take this opportunity say, I could have just gone back in the house and asked Mike or Dave for a ride, but I am doing LCDC and I can’t go in a car. How can I do this car-free?!

I call Mark, get his voice mail. Crap! I’ll call school, tell them what happened and that I am running late. I call school! My phone won’t work. Digital Roam! What the hill? Digital Roam?! I am in the middle of town. I push the Digital Roam button, I try dialing. I drop the phone. I pick it up. I try again. Digital Roam! Apparently, the school’s phone is no longer in service! What!? Digital Roam. I hate Digital Roam.

Somehow I got some air in the tire, which leaked out almost as quickly as I pumped it in. Clearly, won’t be riding this to school. What else can I do? What can I do? If I could just get home, about a mile away, I could ride Penelope (my sweet vintage Raleigh 3-speed) to school. I could run. I am standing in the driveway, sweating in my filthy Carhart pants and work boots, it will take about 15 minutes to get home, then I still have to ride to school, too long. I am already late.

If I could just get the phone to work. Still not working. If only I had cell numbers for Erika or Chad (other LCDC Lee School parents). Then Dave comes out and sees me hunched over my bike in the driveway fumbling with the cell phone and the bike pump, cussing under my breath. "Gina, are you OK?"

"NO! I have a trucking flat tire! I am late getting the kids! My trucking cell phone won’t work! Not really OK?"

"Do you want a ride?"

"NO! I can’t."

"Do you want me to go get the kids?"

"NO. They’ll be disqualified. If I could just call school, but my trucking cell phone is on Digital Roam!"

"Do you want to use mine?"

"Yes!" I call school. Tell Carol I am running late, but will get there as soon as I can. Then I realize, how utterly absurd this is. If I take the ride, I can get Penelope and ride to school to get the kids. I can take my front tire to Klunk and have Karl put a Kevlar puncture proof tire on it to match my back tire, which hasn’t gone flat since I made the upgrade to Kevlar.

"OK Dave, can you take me home to get Penelope, then drop my front tire at Klunk and ask Karl to put a Kevlar tire on it? Tell him I’ll be there in about an hour."

So that’s what I did. If I hadn’t been running so late in getting my kids, if I had been able to get hold of someone else to be there with them until I could get there, if I had been thinking a little more clearly, I wouldn’t have done it, but I did, I took a one mile ride to my house to get my other bike, so I could ride to school to pick up my kids.

I rode Penelope to school, as I was heading up Broadway toward D&H, my phone rang. It was Mark Ellis. "Hi Mark. I had a flat, I was going to see if you could get the kids, but I got my other bike. It’s under control now. Thanks for calling. See you."

I made it to school. They were sitting out front waiting, the last ones there. "We have to stop at Klunk on the way home guys." I told them. "Why?" "It’s a long story."

We got to Klunk, I asked Karl and Kevin if they knew what caused the flat. Kevin replied "Biggest piece of beer bottle ever." Karl agreed it was impressive. I asked if they still had it, but they had already thrown it away. Karl put the super tough puncture resistant Kevlar tire on. Hopefully I won’t have any more flats now.

As I was riding home with the kids, I was thinking about that stupid broken beer bottle that I picked up on my fruitless ride to and from Westlake’s earlier that afternoon. The stupid broken beer bottle that forced me to ride in a car to get my bike. The stupid broken beer bottle that made me late to pick up Max and Annarose. And I thought that whoever threw that beer bottle probably didn’t throw it from a bike.

Re. Getting grey road spatter all up her back, from seat base of neck, while riding through the tunnels on the way to school on a rainy Friday morning.

"I don’t care!" AR calls with a big smile as I comment on the grey spatter all over her back, "I don’t want to be all shi-neee like the other girls in my class who ride in a cars and wear sequin shoes."

"Wow!" I comment "They weare sequin shoes?"

"Kira does. She has sequin shoes."

When we arrive at school, Annarose tries to see the spatter, her trophy from the morning’s soggy ride. She is a little disappointed that it isn’t bigger.

So, I rode to and from work in McBaine on Thursday and Friday, Aug 30 & 31, just to make sure this would be doable. This gave me about 30 miles each day with riding to work and to school with the kids.

I was much smarter on Friday, than I had been on Thursday. I ate protien with breakfast. I took more high carb snacks, a Camelback, and Propel packets to mix with my water during the day. I wore track shorts and packed my work clothes. I took my ipod. The Friday ride was much more pleasant than Thursday’s had been.

The morning ride was still faster and easier than the afternoon ride. Seems my afternoon rides are just going to be about 5 minutes longer than the morning ones. This makes sense, as the mornings are cooler, and I have not been working out in the heat all day yet. Once again, I could feel myself bonking, struggling to pedal (Again with the flat tire thing? Can a tire be flat and round at the same time?) a and fantasizing about chocolate and ice cream somewhere around Forum Blvd (They should really put an ice cream stand in that parking lot).

I was prepared this time, I had packed an energy bar where I could reach it and eat it while riding. Like the Tour de France guys...I’m so smart, I smiled to myself. I reached down for my strategically placed energy bar and began to unwrap it with my left hand and my teeth. I put it up to my mouth to take a bite and...dropped it – Crap! Note to self: " Practice unwrapping and eating snacks on the bike. Keep experimenting with calorie and carb amounts to find steady burn level."

On the ride back, I had some chaffing issues. A had worn track shorts with briefs..stupid, I know. I realize that padded bike shorts would probably be the ideal and sensible choice. However, due to a tragic injury I suffered a few years back during the MS150, which left me unable to sit on my right buttock for two weeks, I hate them. Note to self: "No more briefs under shorts. Keep experimenting."

I arrived at school, my neck and shoulders were killing me, my hands were sore, and my seat was sore as well. I picked up the kids and we rode straight home. I just wanted to be home.

I was happy it was Friday. I could pretty much avoid the bike over the weekend, giving me time to recover before having to make this ride again.