Bikes, Crashes, Courage

Today I'm thinking about how much we depend on our bicycles in Brazil.  Someone in my family rides a bike for a purpose - not for fun - almost every day.  We ride our bikes to Wednesday night church, to the breadstore, to the market, to go up and check on the boat, and to make visits.  Many people in Brazil consider themselves lucky to own a bike.  I've seen men herding cows on bikes.  I've seen men leading horses down the road while riding a bike.

{Reidsville 2003, furlough bikes from Grandaddy}

When we lived in Fortaleza, we hardly ever went by car to church.  Our church was about five city blocks from our house, so we rode our bikes to get there.  Uncle Byron had a baby seat on his and took one boy on the bar of the bike. I took one on my "garupa." {Ask your father.  If he doesn't know, ask your mother.  If she's not sure, ask one of your brothers.  If they don't know, ask another brother. If all else fails, send me a message - it won't be a bother at all.}

{this is not the little clown bike}

William and Dalton learned to ride bikes when they were wee little things.  We lived on a dead end street with a big wall at the end right outside of our gate. William had a little bike that looked like the kind acrobats use in a circus to ride on a high-wire.  It had no brakes and no gears, just the pedals.  It had been a bike with training wheels.  As William got better, Uncle Byron took off the wheels.

William would go really fast as he was learning and forget that he couldn't really stop.  So he would just crash - on purpose - into the wall at the end of the street.  It was sort of comical and yes, sometimes it sort of hurt.  I'm sure our neighbors found it amusing and yet another sign of our unusual American ways.

Greyson on the "everybody rode it" bike

 When William and Dalton were both attending a local preschool, I would take them and pick them up by bike.  One would ride on the "garupa" and one on the bar.  Uncle Byron was pretty good at this, I was only half sure of myself.  But, it was faster than walking, so I found my courage and did what I had to do.  On one particular day, I had to take little Greyson along to go pick up the boys.  I was running a little late and in quite a hurry.  Off we went.  I got there just fine and managed to get two boys on the "garupa" and one on the bar of Uncle Byron's bike.

Now listen,  I had specifically taken Uncle Byron's bike because of the bar.  Girls' bikes don't have those bars and I wouldn't be able to get three boys so easily on my bike.  Uncle Byron's bike sits a little higher than mine because he is taller and his seat is raised up high.  As we came around the corner to turn into our little street, a car cut in a little close to me and I had to swerve towards the sidewalk a little - at this same time the bike promptly came to a swift halt and all of us fell over onto the sidewalk.  Thank God for the car - or we would have all fallen smack into a busy street.

Dalton who was riding on the bar had inadvertantly stuck on of his feet into the front wheel when I made the left-hand turn and the wheel came a little close to his little foot hanging over towards that side of the bike.  As we all got up and checked out our bruises, Dalton was stuck.  I had to ply his foot out of the spokes of the wheel by taking off his shoe.  His foot was bruised but not broken.  Uncle Byron's spokes were a mess and some were broken, the rim was warped and the tire had gone flat.  Greyson and William were okay.  I wasn't in too bad of shape.

We all got up.  I pushed the bike towards our little street as the boys tagged along - with Dalton moaning a little.  We must have been a sight.  A man with a little vegetable store asked if I needed any help as we went by and I asked if he would keep the bike there so I could carry Dalton home.  He agreed and we hobbled back to the house.

{2008, going to church}

Lesson learned:  Courage is fine.  Wisdom is better. When it comes to bikes, let the professionals carry three kids - and let mothers stick to walking and pushing baby buggies.  

Baby Greyson in the old double baby buggy

*Next week - Stay tuned for another crazy bike story from Brazil.