Skip to main content

Bikes, 2 wheelers, gears and sore butts

You that Lil' Chic and Brainy Boy just learned to ride their bikes. Hero Guy and I decided that with camping trips coming up and summer quickly arriving, he and I also needed to grab us a couple so we could go riding as a family. In serious Hero Guy style, no sooner did I mention the idea than we were out of the house in a flash to scope out the selection, not at a proper bike shop, but the the old favorite 'have-anything-you-need from bread to socks' Walmart. The selection proved to be good, the price proved to be right, and the color proved to be suitable. We each found budget-variety, run-of-the-mill bikes for around $70.

No sooner had we gotten them loaded into the back of the monster truck than we were planning our first outing for as soon as the kiddos arrived home from school. A quick trek over to the local park with riding path proved that $70 gets you a bike frame, two wheels and not much more. We looked good, but the riding was a bit rough. First of all, the gear-shifting mechanism on a budget bike is not exactly what you would call smooth. All sorts of clicking racket lets you know that your chain is in danger of falling off. Second, the seat cushioning that comes standard does not give adequate protection against the friction that occurs. I will admit that we had a really fun time and we plan to go again tonight, but when you see us waddle into church on Sunday morning, you won't need to ask--you'll know we've been biking.

Comments

Anonymous said…
Um hello - where is the photo, oh person of picture taking everything, including dead birds who have been dismembered and strewn about one's carpet, of the aformentioned new bikes with the sore butted people upon them?!?!?!
Anonymous said…
In Florida everybody had bikes - especially the old people. After riding mine for a day or two I became overcome with seat envy - the XXXXX wide seats that fit 90 year old rear ends that have spread. Dale just couldn't get over his pride so he never would buy me one. abb
Rochelle said…
yeah, we want pics of the sore-butted bikers!

Popular posts from this blog

Little Chic's New Do

I have been bugging Little Chic to cut her waist-length hair for a long time. She did take about 4 inches off it about two months ago, and ever since, has been toying with the idea of something drastic and cool. Today was the day! I love it, but it's a little sad too--seeing how it makes her look all mature and teenager-ish.

Stickin' It Out

I got married today. Well, not exactly today. It was Friday, June 2. But the year was 1989 - 17 years ago. "Amazing", people say. "Good for you", they comment. "You must have picked the right one", the add. Amazing? Yes. Good for me? I'll admit it. But it has nothing to do with picking the right one, really. It's not because I found the perfect boy, and it's certainly not because he found the perfect girl. It might sound a little unromantic, but there never really is a 'right one' floating around out there waiting in the cosmos for the other 'right one' to crash and connect. There may be 'better ones'; there may be 'more easily compatible' or something or other. But the real story is you start becoming the right one the moment you vow that "you do". When I married, I had been 20 for a whole 33 days, we had just completed a 2-year long-distance realtionship and HE was five years older tha

"Huncle" Dave

This guy's my uncle. He's 8 years older than me. With my dad being the oldest of 10 kids, my grandma still had kids at home by the time my dad was getting started with life. This guy was my hero when I was growing up--sort of the big brother role, but with a little more novelty than a constant bully and boss hanging around. He certainly did his share of bossing and bullying, but I took it all in stride since I thought he was an incredibly big deal. Since he was the youngest of 10 kids, but older than all the grandkids, he took full advantage and made the best of his position in life. One aspect of him being more 'mature and world-wise' was that he required treatment of proper respect and authority. Thus, I, and my cousins, were expected to boost his ego by calling him by his rightful name "Huncle". This classy moniker had the unique combination of the relationship (uncle) and his self-proclamation of him being a teenage 'hunk'. Since growing up,