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Authors: Robin Roseau

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BOOK: Seer
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“I’m going to ride a granny bike?”

I smiled. “It’s only a three speed, and it’s easy and comfortable to ride. Once you can make it reliably around the block a few times, if you want, we can pull down my old road bike, and you can ride it for a longer ride if you want. There’s a great bike trail.”

“Let’s see how I do,” she said.

I adjusted the ladder then climbed up. I pulled the bike off the hooks and would have awkwardly descended the ladder with it, but Solange was waiting and took it from me. She handled it
readily, making it a lot easier. “Thanks,” I said. I left the ladder where it was; we’d need it again later.

I dug out bike helmets for both of us. I put hers on her, feeling a little like a mother as I adjusted the fit.

“Do I have to wear this?” she asked.

“Yes.
Welsh Law.”

She laughed.

I took the bike from her and rolled it out onto the driveway. Solange followed me. I climbed on and rode down the driveway and onto the street. I made sure everything was working properly, testing the brakes, and when I rode back up, I made sure it was in first gear. Solange watched me the entire time.

“All right,” I said. “Once you get this, you’ll wonder why it was hard. Basically, the way you balance on a bike is that you steer the bike underneath you. For instance, if you are about to tip to the right, you turn to the right and the bike moves back underneath you so you don’t fall. It all happens quite automatically, and you won’t have to think about it.”

“Sure,” she said. “Skiing is like that, too. You said something about clips.”

“This bike doesn’t have those. I’ll
show you on my road bike later. Okay, I’m going to show you something.” I got back on the bike and then I tried to ride very slowly. “Do you see how much I have to work to keep my balance?” I turned around and then slowed down more and more until finally I would have tipped over if I hadn’t put a foot out.

“Sure.”

“Faster is easier,” I explained. I got back off the bike and set it on its kickstand. I flipped out the lever that locks the seat in place and lowered it the entire way, then locked it that way.

“Get on and see if you can touch both feet easily on the ground while seated.” I kicked up the kickstand again, and she took the bike from me.

She was actually pretty graceful about it. She’d been watching me. The seat was very low, and she could easily reach the ground.

“If I’m taller than you, why did you lower the seat?” she asked.

“I’ll explain in a minute. Hang on.”

I ran into the garage and returned with my little toolkit for working on my bikes. I pulled out the wrench and then tried to release one of the pedals. It was stuck, and I wasn’t sure what to do.

“What are you doing?”

“Removing the pedals,” I said. “I’ll explain that, too, if I can just… get… this… loose. Damn it.”

“Maybe let me try,” Solange said. She knelt down next to me, so I gave her the wrench and showed her which direction to turn it. She struggled for a moment, then, with a small metallic screeching sound, she got it loose. I finished the process, then she went to the other side.

“This one unscrews in the opposite direction,” I said. A minute later, both pedals were off. She handed everything to me, and I set it all in the tool box and set it aside.

“All right,” I said. “Normally you would pedal, but I want to get you used to balancing a moving bike. I want you to get on and Fred Flintstone it.”

“You want me to what?”

“You know, like on the Flintstones.”

She cocked her head. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

I stared at her. “Um. I know you grew up in France, but surely you watched the Flintstones when you were a kid.” She shook her head. “What? Was France still in the middle ages when you were a kid?”

She looked at me sharply,
then laughed. “I suppose it was. I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

So I explained about the Flintstones and their car. “The car didn’t have a motor. It had two cylindrical rocks for the front and back, and Fred ran his feet along the ground to go or to stop. Here, I’ll show you what I mean.” I got on the bike,
then I moved down the driveway, pushing against the ground with my feet. It was a quiet street, and cars were uncommon. I did a circle in the street then came back up, still pedaling against the ground.

“Oh, I see,” she said.

“You need to watch for cars,” I said. “And these are brakes.” I showed her. “If you grab them suddenly, you’ll crash, but that can be better than running into something. What I want you to do is get on, go about ten feet, then use both brakes together to come to a gentle stop. In fact, practice the brakes in just one place first, then try it.”

She got on and did what I said. “Easy enough.”

“All right, ten feet and a gentle stop.”

She wobbled a lot, but she did it readily. “Do that a few more times until you’re sure you can
brake, then I want you to go up and down the driveway this way until you’re comfortable. Look for cars.”

At first, she really just walked the bike, but she quickly grew braver and braver, pedaling along on the ground then coasting for a bit, pedaling and coasting again. She went up and down the driveway, then turned right and went down the street before coming back. She got better, and soon she was coasting long distances, holding her feet up from the ground, and the wobbles grew smaller and smaller. Finally she came all the way up the driveway, grinning broadly.

“Is this how you learned?” she asked.

“No. But I fell a lot that first day. You’re doing great.”

“Thanks. I feel a little silly.”

“But your skin is whole,” I said. “Did you want to do that some more? Or do you want to try pedaling?”

“Pedaling.”

And so we put the pedals back on.

“Why did you take them off in the first place?”

“So you didn’t hit your shins against them.”

“Oh. Thanks.”

“All right,” I said. “The hardest part is to get started. You’ll be fine once you’re moving. Let me show you something.”

We traded places. I started out standing beside the bike with my left foot on the left pedal. I looked at her. “You can start like you’re skateboarding.” I began rolling, pushing off on the ground with my right foot, then threw my leg over, pedaled around, and came back up.

“You don’t do that at every stop sign.”

“No.” So I showed her that.

“Okay, sure,” she said.

“Now, little kids learn by their parents pushing them. Maybe we should do it that way.”

“Maybe let me try. We’ll see how it goes.”

So I let her have the bike back. “Check for cars before you start and again before entering the street.”

She looked in both
directions, pushed off, wobbled horribly, but then she was pedaling. She almost wiped out at the bottom of the driveway, but she got it under control, turned down the street and, with more confidence than I would have expected, pedaled casually down the street. She wobbled heavily when she turned around, then she came back up the driveway.

She was grinning like mad.
I high fived her.

“I did it!”

“You did,” I said. “Did you check behind you before you turned around?”

“Um.”

“A friend got hit that way once, so I’m always paranoid about it.”

“I would have heard them.”

“Let’s go test drive a Prius and then tell me that,” I said. “Those things are
quiet
.”

“I’ll be more careful.” She paused. “You said around the block?”

“I’ll go with you. Just give me a minute.” I ran into the garage, bringing the tools with me, and changed into my biking shoes. I grabbed my road bike. The mountain bike would have been better for this, but I didn’t want to take time to pull it down. I rolled back out.

I showed her the bottoms of my shoes, then I showed her how they clipped in. “You go first. I’ll catch up.”

“You said this is a three-speed. Like a car?” I nodded. “Is this the clutch?”

“There’s no clutch. That’s the rear brake,” I said. “You should have been using it.”

“Oh, right. I have been.”

“You have to keep pedaling, but you just shift this little lever.” I showed her. “For now, don’t worry about it. Most of us learn to ride on one-speeds. We’ll go
slow, but you need to just get used to starting and stopping more than anything else. Remember the traffic laws. We’re subject to the same laws as a car. Complete stops at stop signs and watch for cars.”

“Gotcha.”

I waited for her to get going, then I hopped on my bike and followed after her. With an experienced rider on quiet streets, I might ride next to her, but I didn’t want to be in her way if she wobbled, so I stayed a bike length behind her.

“I’m right behind you, Solange,” I said. “You’re doing very well.”

We rode around the block twice. At the bottom of my driveway, she came to a stop, and I stopped next to her.

“Can I try shifting?”

“Sure,” I said. “Just remember to downshift before coming to a stop, or it can be hard to get going again.”

So we went around again, and I watched as she managed the shifter. It was easy on the three-speed.

She did very well. She was wobbly starting and stopping, but far better than I would have expected. I had never taught anyone to ride a bike before, and I would have thought it was harder to learn than this. I wondered if her skiing experience helped.

We
went around the block four more times. Solange practiced everything, shifting, braking, and coming to a stop. Finally she pulled up to the driveway and came to a gentle stop. She looked over her shoulder, and she was grinning from ear to ear.

“Can we go further?”

“Are you sure?” She nodded enthusiastically.

“All right,” I said. “Did you want to stay on that bike? We can adjust the seat so it’s more comfortable. Or we can pull down the other road bike, but it will be more challenging to ride.”

She glanced into the garage, and I could see her answer.

“But I’m afraid I’ll hurt your bike.”

“You won’t. It’s already got some scrapes, anyway. I’d be more concerned about your legs than my bike.”

“I’ll be fine,” she said.

So we rolled the comfort bike back into the garage. She helped me put it away, then we moved the ladder and pulled down the road bike. It was set up for clips, so I went to my tool chest and pulled out a set of pedal pads. They clip into the pedals on the bike and give a foot a place to push without having the right shoes.

“Clever,” she said.

“Let’s get it adjusted for you,” I said. “This is mostly a comfort thing. You want to be able to reach the ground from the seat barely, and your leg should just have a slight bend at the longest reach. I think, anyway.”

It took a few tries to get the seat right. I adjusted the handlebars higher for her, too. She eyed everything carefully.

“What is all this?” She gestured at the handlebars.

“There are two positions for riding,” I said. “You can ride mostly upright, and your hands are here. These are the
brakes. And these are the shifters. I’ll come back to those. Or you can go down like this.” I bent way over and grabbed the lower section of the handlebars. “Less wind resistance, so you can go a lot faster.”

“I understand.”

I explained about the shifters and actually demonstrated while holding the rear tire from the ground.

“Oh, I see.”

When I was done, I left it in my preferred “getting started” gear.

“We’re going to go around the block a few times. You can practice shifting and get used to it, then I’ll lead the way to the trail. We’ll go a mile or two and see how you feel.”

“Is that far?”

“No.” I told her about my 100-kilometer ride. “But you won’t be up to that. It uses muscles you never use. So we’ll go a mile or two and see. Remember, we have to get back, and it’s embarrassing to walk the bike if you get tired.” I paused. “Solange, bikers fall. If nothing else, you can fall if you get a sudden flat. I’ve done that a couple of times.
And weird stuff happens. And car drivers can be really exceedingly rude. I haven’t been hit by a car, but I have friends who have.”

She laughed. “I believe you just gave me the lawyer’s disclaimer.”

“You’ll have to draft a statement to use in the future.” She laughed again.

“I consider myself forewarned.”

I let her lead the way around the block a few times. She practiced everything, both from the more upright and the inclined position. I was impressed.

“Ready for the trail?” I called out.

“Sure!”

I sped up and passed her. “Follow me. I’ll keep us to a modest pace, but if you want to go faster, just tell me.”

Eden Prairie is crisscrossed with bike trails, and it wasn’t far to one of the best bike trails I ever use. I set a comfortable pace there, and Solange kept up easily. We pulled onto the trail, and gone a short distance, and she called out. “Sidney! I love it. We can go faster if you want.”

BOOK: Seer
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