In Which Baby J Rides a Bicycle

Trying on the helmet. Baby doesn't seem to mind it.

Baby J is just past 6 months of age—a bit young for the toddler seat I use on my commuting bicycle.

But he is visiting from England and won’t be around all that long—and we, his family, wondered if he would enjoy a bicycle ride.

The Wee Ride seat that my wife and I purchased at Wal-Mart some 5 or 6 years ago has seen a lot of use. Each grandchild, from about the age of 11 months to about 2 or 2 ½, has been able to use the seat to go on bicycle rides with grandpa. The only exception has been the ones who life across the ocean—J has two older sisters who have started to bicycle in England, which seems a rather bike-friendly place to get started on this adventure.

8-year-old granddaughter ready for a ride on Monday. It's a different attachment on a different bike--she is ready to ride a Schwinn attached bike borrowed from another daughter. She rode the blue one shown below on Tuesday, too.

Anyway, with other grandchildren, results have varied. All of the children have enjoyed rides now and then, but some have been more addicted to biking than others. My next youngest grandson, for instance, often wants a bicycle ride—sadly, this is probably his final season using this system, as he is approaching the size where the toddler seat won’t fit him anymore, but in another year he will have graduated to the Tag-A-Long attachment.

Tuesday, late in the afternoon, for some reason, the curiosity bug bit all of us. I had inquired about taking the older visiting granddaughters for bicycle rides—the idea was approved, but I can’t remember who asked—my wife or my daughter—is it time for J to try a ride?

Well, we don’t know if we have a helmet for such a tiny head. I found one of our smallest, adjusted it down, and we fit it on his head. Turns out he has a large head for a baby, and it seemed big, but snug enough.

6-year-old grandchild rides on Lindale Trail. She seems to be liking the ride.

What about the toddler seat? There are two in the garage, one that I have used for years on my bike and a second one that another daughter used with her sons. My daughter’s Wee Ride seat is newer, so we chose to try that seat (the newer model seems to have a bit more padding than the older one). I adjusted the feet rests up for shorter legs, and my wife and I spent some time shortening the torso and shoulder straps.

And then J was placed in his throne. He seemed to fit well, and we strapped him in. The concern had been, at age 6 months he can sit, but would he be stable enough to not flop over too much during a bike ride?

I rolled up the street a short way and returned so his mother and grandmother could check on him. He was sitting in front of me, and I could hear that he was not making any unhappy sounds, but I could not see his face.

According to mom and grandma, he looked happy, so we left on another short ride, just a few houses up the street and back. I don’t think J is ready for long rides yet, but little excursions seemed to please him.

It’s a pleasure to play a small part in introducing another generation to the joys of biking. After J’s short rides, I took his two sisters on pre-supper rides, too. The younger one rode the Lindale Trail, just the paved part near C Avenue since it had rained earlier in the day. The older one doesn’t like to cross the C Avenue bridge, so we looped through some neighborhood streets.

The sky was growing grey as I finished riding with the third grandchild. We put the bike and Tag-A-Long attachment away, and headed in for supper before the raindrops fell.

There weren’t a lot of miles on Tuesday, but it was still a great biking day!

J and I return, smiles on both of our faces.

In Which I Had a Hammer

If I had a hammer, I’d … repeatedly beat the seat post of my new bicycle.

Really, I would—and Saturday, I did. In spring, we purchased a used tag-a-long bicycle wheel and seat—one of those things that looks like half a bike and attaches to the rear of a larger bike so a child can bike along with an adult. Part of my argument for acquiring the yet-unnamed new blue hybrid bike was that, besides a pickup truck for commuting, I wanted a grandpa-bike--one I could attach a toddler seat to, and the hitch for the child half bike behind.

The hitch was a hitch. The attachment piece was not original, it was a sturdy piece of steel welded by a friend or family member of the previous owner—and the inside diameter of the piece was way too close to the outside diameter of my seat post.

I used WD40 and chain lube, but they were not enough. The hammer proved more persuasive, and 40 minutes of me humming “Working in the Coal Mine” or “If I Had a Hammer” later, the hitch was firmly in place.

The nut to hold it to the seat post was mostly installed as an afterthought—I’m sure this sucker isn’t going anywhere. Installing it required me to raise the seat on my commuting bike—today’s planned ride to the Hiawatha Farmer’s Market will test how well that worked, although I did take a short ride after installation, and the bike felt fine.

The new bike, with child bike attached and toddler seat in place. What shall we call this?

My experience with bike shops is that they usually adjust my seat too low. I know you don’t want to unbend your leg all the way on the down stroke, but I almost always end up raising the seat after they’ve adjusted it.

Anyway, I had to take the toddler bar off to installed the hitch, and putting that back on was difficult. Today’s ride will test that system, too, although again I checked it out and it seems OK.

So, now that the bike is ready to tow grandchildren, what do we call this new vehicle? I know it’s the wrong color, it’s blue and not a yellowish green, but I am tempted by “Clarissa,” the name of the first family car I remember, because Clarissa, a chartreuse 1959 VW Microbus, was a people hauler, too. Then again, this is a manly bike--is there a masculine form of the name Clarissa?

So, friends and family, what do you say? What do we call the new bus, or rather, bike?

In Which CR Biker Covets A Totally Impractical Ride

Blame this one on Amanda and the silly Dutch.

My oldest daughter told me to Google “Gazelle Cabby.” It turns out it’s a heavy-duty cargo bicycle introduced this year by Royal Dutch Gazelle, a Dutch manufacturer of bicycles and electric bikes. This one is human powered, and since the bike itself, with bag attached, weights in at 85 pounds, one can assume the name “Gazelle” is ironic.

I assume this bike is probably a bit more practical in Holland than in Iowa, since Holland is a land not noted for the bumps in its topography. I’m not sure how it would be to try to push this puppy up the MMU hill. It’s a seven-speed, and one wonders at the mountain-climbing ability of its most extreme gear.

But, still—can I picture myself on the Cedar River Trail, gliding along, with Tristan and Nikayla, ages 3 and 5, in front? Sure. Stop fighting, you two. You can have a Granola bar when we stop.

I can also picture myself with Amelia and Audrey riding along. After all, the front basket can carry 160 pounds, which is comfortably a granddaughter with a grandmother thrown in, too.

Then again, that means I would have to move 160 pounds with the power of my aging legs. I don’t think we’d put in a bunch of miles, although the few miles I could do would be fun ones.

So, the Gazelle would not be a practical primary bike for me. At close to $3,000, I would have to have a lot of extra disposable income before I purchased this puppy—it’s a bit down on my wish list after a big ass macro lens, a vacation cottage on the Mississippi and a full suite of toys that being with “i.”

But a man can dream. And yes, if I was rich and I owned 4 or 5 bicycles—and what rich man doesn’t need 4 or 5 bicycles, in all honesty—I bet one would be a Gazelle Cabby.

Then, I could carry both Audrey and a Brompton in it. A bike with a spare bike. Why not?