The blind stoker on a bike ride

Hubby's taking a blind person for a bike ride. Is it just me (please tell me it's not just me!) or was the immediate thought one of hubby riding a bike with a leash or rope attached to another bike and yelling directions at the person riding. "Left! No, no, the OTHER left!"

Actually, it's very cool. An email went around about needing "captains" who had tandem bikes to take persons from the vision impaired population for a long bike ride. Hubby volunteered which is great because he is a good captain. We actually have an old tandem (bought from Craig'slist a couple of years ago) that is a little funny looking (surprise, surprise!) Sort of like 2 very odd looking bikes welded together to make one long one. The person riding on back is called "stoker."

I've gotten to be stoker before. I have to say, I didn't really enjoy it. Firstly, the seat hurt my crotch or zhouge or private area or what have you. Secondly, hubby did give direction like a captain. "Smoooooth power," He said loudly over his shoulder as he shifted gears and we went uphill. I gathered this meant "pedal hard but like a ballerina." I tried hard and it WAS hard. It was different from just providing your own power for your own bike. And the truth is, I couldn't see all that well. Hubby's bigger than me so it was hard to see around him. I really did have to trust that he was leading me down a good path.

I realize this did not match being blind; that in fact I really have no idea what it's like to be blind (except before I had LASIK surgery, we did joke that I was on my way. My eyesight was 20/400 or something like that. I did wear glasses and contacts for most of my life. LASIK was an incredible experience. However, I digress.)

Perhaps riding a tandem bike is a good exercise in partnering; trusting and letting go. But I think I might prefer captain, so I can yell directions and be in charge.

The other day, I definitely felt like the blind stoker. And a bad mom. Here's the story:

Hubby was tossing and turning in bed. (He told me this, I wasn't aware of this fact like I would have been pre AD's.) He got up around 3 am.

I do remember this because I said something sweet like, "What's up babes?"

He said, "I can't stop thinking about work. I'm heading in."

I said, "Oh, okay, whatever you want I'll see you later be careful," very sleepily.

This was like an identity change for us. It used to be me who tossed and turned and hubby who groggily but sweetly told me, "Hey babes can't you sleep curl up on me." I was aware of all of this for about 20 seconds and went right back to sleep.

At 7 am, Hubby called. He said, "I rode my bike but I seemed to have taken your keys along with my keys. Do we have spares for the cars?"

I said, "Oh, I'm sure we do. Not a problem."

We chatted about his ride in, what he was working on, how the boys were already eating Fruit Loops. We hung up. I searched but only found a spare key for our van. I was sure we had one for the 4-runner, but couldn't find it. The 4-runner, my car of choice these days, was sitting in the driveway, locked, with my bag in it, and with the car seats as well. Oh man! I don't actually remember having a spare for it. I felt like slapping my forehead, "Idiot! IDIOT."

I could have chosen to stay home or ride my bike. But my keys had my gym membership card on them. I wanted to go to Nia, my dance/yoga class. Also, my wallet, in my bag, in the locked car, had my library card (as well as my license.) The 3 year old and I were going to do the library today.

I called hubby back, told him I would take the 6 year old to school in the van, and then the 3 year old and I would have to go to his work to get my keys. This was the best I could figure, as I didn't see hubby riding home to give me my keys. (Although in retrospect...)

Sans car seats, I took the boys. I belted them in good and tightly, as best I could. Running late for school, but making it there in time, I noticed the gas in the van was quite low. In fact, the light came on! It was just the other day it had a quarter tank of gas! Our rule was once the gas hits a quarter of a tank, someone fills it up. No one had filled it up. I swear, that last quarter doesn't really exist. It's just there for show. So it looks like a normal gas gauge.

Okay, I think. This is fine. The "you're-running-out-of-gas-please-fill-up-it's-really-low-now-idiot" light went out. That's good. We'll just drive more slowly which will conserve more gas, and help with the car seats issue (which was not having any!) I'll take the back way.

But the light came back on, brighter this time. It stayed on. I realized I had nothing. No wallet, no cell phone, not even a quarter in my pocket to make a pay-phone call. Also, in our haste to get the 6 year old to school, I didn't grab hats for the 3 year old or me. To top it off, I was dressed for Nia. Warm boots with my Capri length gaucho pants, tank top with a bulky sweater on top, and a sporty coat. I'm going to have to walk to hubby's work with the 3 year old, no hats, dressed funnily, I thought.

I started chanting a little mantra, please let us make it there. Please let us make it there. Feeling a bit like the blind stoker. Hoping, trusting, it would work out okay. At least my zhouge wasn't hurting.

We made it! Hubby came down, looking cheerful and said, "Sorry about your keys."

I said a little wild-eyed, "Do you have your credit card and a couple of dollars?"

He gave them to me, said, "Am I in trouble?"

I said, "Just a little. Do you think we'll make it to the gas station?" He thought so.

We did. I was relieved and thankful. I really didn't want to walk with my little guy, in the cold, with no hats. I felt like a bad enough mom having taken him on this misadventure.

I think I've now learned that we shall:

1. Get a spare key or 2 or 3 made for the 4-runner
2. Not leave my bag locked in the car sitting outside
3. Stick to the rule of filling up at a quarter tank
4. Always take hats with when it's winter weather outside
5. Keep a quarter (or is it 35 cents now?) in pocket at all times, even when owning a cell phone
6. Remember that I'm not perfect, that I make mistakes, but perhaps I can do better next time
7. Trust like a blind stoker on a bike ride that things work out well in the end.