A post in which L.A.’s mom learns to bike with one hand.
If you’ve been around the blog awhile, and when I say the blog, I mean any of:
• The triple stop
• 2 Hotchtics 1 le blog
• Finding L.A.
…then you know that the past few years, my family has gone on a sponsored bike trip called Michigan People put on Spandex and Pedal for a week. Not really. It’s actually called the Michigander. This is our third year on it. I’ve ridden more miles than blogs I’ve posted on.
Now, I’m going to hashtag the Michigander on twitter, so I feel like this should involve something about the Michigander and the trails and the miles we are riding and the people we are meeting.
But this is a humor blog.
And generally, when we arrive at the campsites at night, I’m so fucking tired that I don’t want to blog about how awesome I feel completing a day, or how exhilarating the wind when the trail finally decides to go downhill.
I want to complain that my ass hurts, and my back hurts, and my bike’s handlebars are too low. Plus, we are such an entourage, that we are usually the last people into camp. We deserve a medal. Someone has to be the caboose.
But anyway…instead, I’m going to tell you an amusing tale of the road thus far.
It’s the first day. I’m still bright eyed and bushy tailed. We’ve driven in a day early to get a jump start on our morning and we are pumped. Okay, maybe not pumped. But I was a lot more excited the day my ass felt like itself than I was when I woke up this morning.
However, my family is still my family. Thus, we woke up late. We missed breakfast. We started late. C’est la vie.
Thanks to our late start, we ended up heading to Burger King for breakfast. A quick bite, and we were off. Apparently, this bite was a little too quick.
Regarding my mother…
If you’ve been reading the blog, you may have caught the fact that she doesn’t ride a bike. She rides on the the back of the tandem with my dad. Granted, she doesn’t have to work too hard to keep the balance on the tandem besides to sit still, but she still tends to keep both hands on the handlebars.
Back to the tale. So we have our BK breakfast and are heading out when I realize my mom is still carrying her coffee.
“Mom,” I tell her. “There is no way you’ll be able to keep that while riding.”
She waves me off. “It’s okay. I’ll be okay.”
Sure enough, she’s riding down the street, willing to keep one hand up, lest she spill her morning coffee.
The funny thing is…the last time I can really remember my mom without both hands on the handlebars, I was 11, and she was brandishing a stick at rabid farm dogs to protect my 13 year old sister. Kind of like a tandem riding version of:
You know, except instead of Frodo, it was VS. And instead of a Balrog, it was a farm dog.
Translate that to nowadays and what do we get?
My precious coffee…