A bike ride sounded like just the thing. After Saturday morning pancakes with Grampa Dan, Grama Leslie, and the cousins, I borrowed the ancient rickety bike trailer that we tried to throw out when we moved but which Dan rescued. Jeff and I bought this bike trailer used at a garage sale nine years ago, and it was pretty old back then. The thing was even worse than I remember it, due to spending the past two years exposed to the elements in the side yard storage next to Dan's kayak. But a few jiggles and wiggles convinced me that the old contraption had at least one more ride left in it (in spite of the mildew and shredding fabric), so I crammed it into the trunk and drove home.
At home, the real preparations began. It took me two hilariously hot-mess-hours to pump up tires, adjust bike seats, load everything into and onto the van, pack a picnic, and make sure everyone peed before we left. Lots of the time it felt like I was moving backwards or in very slow motion, trying to get everything together so we could just go on a simple bike ride!
The whole process was a bit of a snowball effect, like that book about "if you give a mouse a cookie" but with chores. First I prepped the van trunk by removing random debris and folding down all of the back seats to make room for bicycle cargo. We had never put our snow chains back into their zippered bag after the awful winter; they were dumped in a tangled heap in our trunk. Since there was nowhere to put them but back in the bag (our garage doesn't have a work bench or anything so handy for junk-dumping), I spent ten or fifteen minutes untangling the two massive chains and then carefully, laboriously crammed them into their special too-small bag. THEN it was time to get started on the bikes. We rolled out and inspected all of the bikes which hadn't been ridden since last summer. Jay and Rose have nearly outgrown their bikes, so I had Jay try a spare 26 inch frame bike that we have. It was much too big, so setting the seat heights on their old bikes to maximum had to suffice.
Next came the tires. First I squeezed the tires to see if any of them even needed to be pumped, but two or three needed it so I figured I may as well top off all of them to make our ride smoother and easier. I pumped up ten tires: four bikes plus the bike trailer. My arms felt the burn from using our hand pump up and down over and over to fill the storage-softened tires times ten. My hands were filthy and sore from wrestling with snow chains, clearing out the trunk, and unscrewing dusty tight tire nozzle caps. My hair was wisping out of its braid into my face. The hot mess was setting in and everything was barely halfway ready!
Loading the bikes into the van took a significant amount of energy and left a good deal of dirt and other debris on my hands and pants. My hair continued to wisp and tickle my face. Normally I prefer to do bike rides from home along the canal road to avoid the exhausting gargantuan task of load-unload-load-unloading bikes from the car (especially without husbandly muscles to help). But the kids ride so much better and longer on the smooth paved bike path than they do on the bumpy rutted canal road, plus I did not want the additional mental strain of dog-attack-fear on my mind. So load-and-go it was. After a brief trial, I immediately discovered that my Clydesdale of a bike would not fit in the back of the van with the three kids bikes and the bike trailer. So I wedged the three small bikes and the trailer into the van, closed the trunk, and got out Jeff's bike trailer. I had never put it onto the back of our van by myself successfully, but I had already made it this far, so I was not giving up. Somewhere in the middle of this process, I decided that all of this lifting, hauling, and biking would be enough exercise for me and I was not going to run that day.
After much troubleshooting and with both Jay and Rose assisting me with the straps, I managed to get the bike rack attached to the back of the van. I hoisted my bike onto it and the entire thing sagged so my bike nearly touched the ground. I sagged too, wiping my hair out of my eyes for the zillionth time. We started again and after another impossibly difficult series of the left strap falling out of place every time I opened the trunk to insert the right strap, (that happened so many times I thought I may scream or cry or just collapse and give up), the rack was finally positioned up higher. Up I hoisted my heavy Clydesdale. It didn't sag! I did a jig! I strapped the bike firmly to the rack, tied it off, and then went inside to eat. I was ravenous after 90 minutes of manual labor!
Since it was 11:30am by this point, I ate my lunch while packing a picnic for the kids between bites. While I ate and worked, the kids played outside in the dirt, their three blonde heads together, digging and making a "Mt. Everest for ants," as they later informed me. At long long last, everything was ready and we got into the van. I had been working flat out for two entire hours, and now it was time to go on a bike ride. I drove carefully, keeping an eye on the floppy bike rack through my rear view mirror, and it did not fall off on the journey. We arrived at Sunnyview Park and discovered that the gates were all closed. Seriously, Sunnyside? They padlock the gates to the parking lot at this park every winter. But we were three days into spring and the park was still locked. We parked in front of the gate and unloaded all of the gear.
Our bike ride began with a dash across the busy road to the bike path. I had to stop three times in the first minute of the ride alone because the bike trailer was making weird noises. At last I fixed/rigged it enough to continue. We ended up riding 3 miles east to Grandview, then rode back to the park for an even six miles. Rose was way up ahead the entire time so I barely saw her. Jay rode with Amber and me on the way out, but on the return he faded far behind me. I took a break at a bench with Jay who was feeling worn out on the way back, and he finished just fine. Rose was little miss dynamite and pedaled at full speed for the entire 6 miles! Amber slouched in the bike trailer and chewed on her jacket sleeve in passivity. Her pedaling is not fast enough to ride with her big sibs. Pulling that heavy old bike trailer was a great equalizer between my big bike and a child's pace. I was sore and tired by the end!
Back at the park, we (I) grabbed our picnic and Amber's bike from the van. Amber rode her bike all the way across the big park to the playground while I pulled the bike trailer full of food, blankets, and camp chairs behind my bike. Then we set up and had a pleasant sunny picnic in the 58 degree spring air. I lounged; the kids ran and played. It was a lovely break from the rigors of getting there. Eventually I loaded everything back into the bike trailer and rode back to the van to load up. We got home at 3:30pm, 3.5 hours after we left.
I unloaded that heavy load one more time and then spent the next two hours on the couch. We all had a good time on our bike-picnic, but making memories is exhausting! The total elapsed time from beginning prep to end couch-collapse was 6 hours. I concluded that pulling off a family activity solo as the only adult was a much harder workout than any wimpy eight mile run.
I felt so ridiculous doing all of this messy bike work, I had Jay take a picture.
Overexposed, but this was our victory selfie once we finally go the bike rack right. Rose patiently held the middle part in place while Jay and I wrestled with those blasted floppy straps.
My view while I threw together a picnic.
Finally! The kids were waiting in the car for close to ten minutes while I grabbed a few last minute supplies from the house. They placed each person's helmet on their respective seat's headrest.
Ready to roll! Normally I am more vigilant about getting into pictures with my kids because I want them to have visible memories of me being there with them, but I was TIRED and I only managed a few ill-framed selfies.
Mid-bike-ride selfies are scary and I only took one.
Turnaround at the Grandview Chevron station: Rose was already a quarter mile away heading back to the park.
Rest stop. I did not unbuckle Amber. The bike path runs along train tracks between a 55 mph road and an interstate. It was not the most tranquil or quiet of routes, but it was smooth and flat. This was Jay's and Rose's longest bike ride of their lives!
Jay rested for about two minutes and then declared that his legs were mostly ready to get going.
I'm so glad that this girl didn't get into more mischief in the bike trailer because she could probably torn the old thing up easily. When she got out back at the park, her back was covered in shredded disintegrating fabric.
Chilling.
Picnics at the park have always been one of my highest ideals.
Amber claimed that yellow camp chair and nobody disputed her. I clamped a hat over my extra loose helmet hair and it kept most of the tickly wisps out of my face. Seriously, how do people manage long hair? It is always in the way.
These vintage Star Wars sheets made excellent picnic blankets. Our friends gave them to us back when Jay was a darling three year old obsessed with Star Wars.
CHEESE
Several other families came and went while we were at the park, pulling their cars off the road and walking around the lame padlocked gate. Amber was the lion of the playground and I had to stop her from: stomping on kids' fingers while they tried to climb ladders up to the platform, pushing kids down the slide, and throwing mulch at kids. Seriously. I'm all about letting kids play with minimal adult intervention, but I can't let my Amb-monster be a bully!
Amber did not want to ride her bike all the way back to the car. I brought it because she doesn't get to ride on pavement very often, and she did enjoy riding it on the park sidewalks and parking lot, but she was done by the end.
Jay loves to dab (the name of this dance move, which I learned embarrassingly late--story of my life when it comes to fads). He dabs back and forth as a victory dance, and he wanted a picture of himself victorious behind the closed padlocked park fence. You can't keep us out with a mere padlock and sign, parks and rec department! Amber can dab too, in her way.
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