Thanks, All, you are too kind. It's fun for me to type out my thoughts for the like-minded to read. I have zero real-life biking friends, so you all are indispensable!
Yesterday was near disaster for the Bicycle Bus. My oldest bus kid is in 8th grade and they don't come any sweeter. She was bringing up the rear as we headed down the Hill That Would Make Cipollini Cry. A ways down I heard my son call out to me, so I slowed and swiveled my head, trying not to lose control of the giant front load in my abused Wald basket. There was L, in the street where vehicles whiz by at 55 mph. The curb melted away and provided her a way back up onto the sidewalk and we were once again on our way. But close to campus, I noticed she was behaving oddly on her bike. When the sidewalk narrowed so that we must walk the bikes, I waited up for her to ask what kind of shenanigans had happened at the back of the bus. "I lost my brakes!" she cried. !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! That's what I thought. It's like a quote. Anyway, she continued, "And then this black piece of my shifter - it just FLEW OFF - and I called after it, 'Wait, come back!!!' but it was gone. And then my shifter wanted to be in 1 and I had to squeeze it tight the entire ride so it would stay in gear. And that made it hard to also squeeze the brakes. But then I noticed my brakes were no longer working. I was coming up on L [my little son] and I didn't want to make him crash, so I veered off into the road just as a big truck went by! I knew this bike was going to give me trouble. I looked at it this morning and I said, 'You're going to give me trouble today, aren't you?'." Aghast, I said, YOU ARE NEVER RIDING THAT BIKE AGAIN OR I WILL HAVE 5 CORONARIES. As I unloaded the Betty Foy, the kids all parked their bikes. L gave one final exclamation that got my attention. "My front tire is flat!" she squealed. No, I'm not kidding. Folks, you can't make this stuff up. So, I hugged her, said a prayer of thanksgiving to Jesus and I texted her mother and told her what had happened. I'm hoping and praying I never see that Schwinn again. Today the Bicycle Bus was attended only by us. But we had so much fun because strange weather is moving through our neck of the woods, and it is lovely. Big, puffy cotton candy clouds floated over us. The sun left streaks of color in the sky. Dark and heavy clouds cruised by swiftly, having not yet decided to pour out their raindrops. And in the distance, hovering over our route was a RAINBOW. The boys were so excited because this one looked to end right about where the school would be. The boys have never given up hope of actually reaching a rainbow and discovering there really might be a pot o' gold for them there. The crossing guard near our house called out, "Save some gold for me!" We wouldn't have, though, because we would have spent it all at the bike store getting new bikes for the Bicycle Bus passengers. Rainbows are sneaky, and we were eluded yet again, but that didn't detract from the joy of the pursuit nor the fun of the ride. And on a comical note, there is a goofy kid worth telling about. There is an elementary school close to my house, and those kids let out at the time I'm heading to get my kids at their school. This goofball kid, who I'd put at about 3rd grade, has gotten a new scooter. He has to take it down The Hill That Would Make Cipollini Cry, which even I would never attempt. There are a pair of blond brothers who do it every day on their scooters, and the goofball must be their friend. They are now a trio. The brothers are way more street smart, as they've been at it awhile. The goofball is a disaster. His scooter is pretty cool, with big, fat, black tires, and he knows it. As I came behind him, he began chirping about the splendor of his new scooter. Then, he did exactly what comes naturally to little boys with new wheels: "Race ya!" he called. He took up the whole path and would unpredictably swerve this way and that. I was stuck behind him, riding my brakes and looking on in amusement. He talked the entire way down the hill, not that I could make a single word of it out. He was blithely happy with himself, whatever he was chattering about, and I waved goodbye as he turned right into his neighborhood. I caught him again today. "You again!" he chirped. And then something about racing, and we started the whole experience over again. You can't make this stuff up. Leah -- You received this message because you are subscribed to the Google Groups "RBW Owners Bunch" group. To unsubscribe from this group and stop receiving emails from it, send an email to rbw-owners-bunch+unsubscr...@googlegroups.com. To post to this group, send email to rbw-owners-bunch@googlegroups.com. Visit this group at https://groups.google.com/group/rbw-owners-bunch. For more options, visit https://groups.google.com/d/optout.
