I can almost visualize the scene. How I wish I was there to witness :-) On Monday, March 15, 2021 at 11:41:36 AM UTC+8 Bicycle Belle Ding Ding! wrote:
> [image: 269F6687-1E73-4DC9-ABC6-A84D0D1AE0A9.jpeg]Today Baby Bear (he’s > 12) accompanied me on a ride. We were just beginning our ascent of Killer > Hill when we noticed a roadie up ahead. He was on the path, and not the > road, and his Lycra was rather tight. He had the glasses, the carbon, the > kit - he was telling the world he was LEGIT. I wasn’t buying it. I looked > at my son, who was looking at me and mirroring my expression. > > “Let’s get him,” I said. > > Now, let me set this scene for you. My son is about 60 pounds. He’s > piloting a 45 cm Clem H with a large Nitto rear rack and basket, and a > couple of handlebar bags. Huge 2 inch Kenda tires on those heavy stock Clem > wheels. His bike weighs half his body weight, I’ll bet. And worse, he’s out > of practice. He used to dance up that hill, but he doesn’t negotiate Killer > Hill much these days (my kids are in virtual school so no bike > commute)...but facts be darned, we’ve decided. > > Baby Bear has a strong start, and I follow behind. He rings his bell to > alert the roadie to our presence. The roadie is NOT expecting anyone else > to be climbing this hill on a bike, and especially not passing him, so it > doesn’t compute and he misses it. I give him two pretty Spurcycle dings and > an “on your left” and then he knows. We shoot past him at a higher speed > than we’d ever normally take and again, exchange looks, this time worried > ones. Our incline is rapidly increasing and we are going too fast. We have > 3/4 of a mile to go. Baby Bear is standing on his pedals and breathing hard. > > “Well, we’re committed now,” I tell him. And I mean it. I can’t slow down > even if it kills me. I’m going to ride my raspberry racing Platypus up > Killer Hill with my Saddlesack and unicorn Platypus pin and if I go into > cardiac arrest at the top it will have been worth it. > > I don’t realize I’ve dropped my kid. When I do, I see that he has been > passed by the roadie after he (OH COME ON) stopped to take a drink of > water. The roadie and his unfortunate Lycra are now in the middle of a > Peterson sandwich. > > I’m separated from my son; I can no longer see him, and it worries me. I > can see the roadie clearly, though, and he’s still coming. Mother of the > Year here, I have a tough choice to make. > > And I make it. > > Breathless and exhausted, I stop at the top of the hill and watch the > roadie approach. He will know I’m waiting for my son now and that I have, > indeed, won. When he gets close I close my mouth, slow my breathing and > smile at him so he won’t know I am actually about to die. He averts his > eyes but he does say hi. After a long while, Baby Bear comes into view. He > is sheepish about being bested after such a strong start but he also > doesn’t berate me for ditching him. He knows I had to do it. He’s glad I > upheld the family honor; we get each other, Baby Bear and me. If he > couldn’t do it, he knew I was gonna have to. > > Anyway, Baby Bear is going to take on that hill more often so he can smoke > roadies on his QuickGrilver Clem next time. > > 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 view this discussion on the web visit https://groups.google.com/d/msgid/rbw-owners-bunch/a98d6dc6-20bd-4adc-aad5-ad9ba0cdc637n%40googlegroups.com.
