I Like to Ride My Bicycle

It all started with a flat tire, and here's the long post to go with it.

I'm not blogging from my home computer, so sorry for the pictureless post. I'm visiting my parents for the next week or so.

Many of you know what a "sticker" is -- not the kind that has adhesive on it that sticks on your shirt and is a cute design. No, the kind of sticker I'm talking about has several names like "puncture vines" or "goat heads." They are the reasons you do not go barefoot inside or outside here in rural Nevada. They are also the reasons you buy puncture-proof tires for kids' bikes. Otherwise, you'll always have a flat.

Unfortunately, I forgot all about stickers before I loaded Jackson's bike in the car. Within the first hour of being here, the front tire on Jackson's bike went flat. No amount of pumping it up solved the problem. The next day I drove to the local hardware store (15 miles away) and found tire slime. That evening with the help of my dear uncle, we slimed the tire and pumped it up. I decided to pump the back tire just a bit to ensure it was good. Unfortunately, I didn't rely on my own intuition, and I gave the tire a pump or two of air too many. POP! I blew out the tire.

No big deal, right? Just run down to Wal-Mart or the hardware store where I got the slime and replace the inner tube. Wrong!! The hardware store doesn't really carry bike equipment, and well, the nearest department store is at least 80 miles away. Luckily, my mom and I needed to run to St. George (almost two hours away) and go to a fabric store, so yesterday I was able to buy new tires for the bike. Last night my dad helped me put on the new tire and pump it up correctly (it's a pain to do with training wheels on). Phew! Everything's better!

Wrong, again! An hour or so later, the bike chain fell off due to the wheel not being tight enough. So, my dad fixed the bike this afternoon and everything seemed wonderful to Jackson. He was riding up and down the street. Only every once in a while does a car drive down the street, and there are no sidewalks. Jackson pretty much has free reign on the road. A little too much freedom.

I was outside watching Jackson and reading my book when I noticed that Jackson did not stop at the corner of the street at the stop sign and turn around. He kept going, and, boy, does he cruise! I yelled and called his name, but I know he couldn't hear me with those training wheels. I wasn't catching him walking, so I started to jog. Thankfully, my dad jumped on his bike and started down the road to catch Jackson. He had made it a block and a half from my parents' house by the time my dad caught him, and he was hoping to make it all the way to the end of the street -- not far by city terms, but far enough from any mom hoping to keep a good eye on her kid.

Needless to say, Jackson was very unhappy about the interruption in his plans to ride off into the sunset, and he was screaming when I tried to explain the "rules" of riding to him. The bike is retired for tonight, and since tomorrow is Sunday, I think it will rest until Monday. Perhaps I can have a break from the bike, too, this weekend. I don't want to even imagine what could happen to not have a break.

Here's a beautiful picture of my hometown. Where is the town? Why, where you see all of the trees. The L on the mountain is for the name of the high school there.