Two Wheel Blogs

And now for something completely different...

Last night was a beautiful night. The temperature was perfect, and try as I may, I could not possibly describe the perfection of the evening (so imagine if you will the greatest central Missouri has to offer).

My wife, kids, and I had just finished a great meal and went for a short walk that was interrupted by my 3 kids stopping at the creek at the end of the street and doing what boys do for about 45 minutes (playing in the creek, stomping in the knee-deep mud, and crawling through coverts from one side of the street to the other).

Upon returning home, my kids instinctively ran ahead and started pulling out their bikes in attempt to milk a few more precious play-time minutes from this wonderful evening before bed time was proclaimed. The truth is, I would let them ride any time they want...time on a bike is good time, and I am not about to discourage it.

So they entered the routine of finding their helmets, and putting them on (I have convinced them of the importance of that much at least), and in moments they were zipping up and down the street. My oldest son is constantly chiding someone into a race. He is quick to point out when he wins, but his determination makes him quick to forget a loss.

Last night, because it was so nice out, there were many others enjoying the evening in a similar manner. It was not long before my oldest son rifles through a congested portion of the street and clips a girls shirt with his bars. The bars snap to the left, and he crashes gloriously. The street erupts into the sounds of my son screaming as if...well as if the worst has happened.

I rush to the scene to find him laying next to his bike wailing and crying as he bled from his stomach, mouth and chin. I did my best to get him to hush the screaming long enough for him to express triage to me (what hurts, so I can fix that first).

I hoisted him to my shoulders, grabbed his helmet and mine and pushed our bikes from the center of the street back to our house. While his injuries were traumatic to him, they were not severe (it is not like I value my bike more than my kids, so don't get the wrong idea).

He got some road rash on his tummy and chin, and bit into his lip bad enough to make it swell and bleed a bit--quite a bit actually, the neighbors seemed mortified (then again, they have two girls and are probably not used to seeing blood like we are). I dressed his wounds, gave him some pain/anti-inflammatory meds, and started on the lessons learned portion of the evening.

This is something I like to instill in my kids. Whenever something like this happens, we sit and discuss what we learned from the situation...this might surprise you, but it shouldn't.

Once again, do not get the wrong idea...because it may not be what you think. I do not think I am one of "those" parents. I treat my kids like my riding buddies, if something goes wrong, it is good to discuss why, and strategise toward a better outcome in the future (sound familiar).

So we are all hushed and cleaned up and we start discussing what went wrong, and how can we learn from it. My son was concerned that mom and I were going to take his bike away, or lecture him on riding too fast. After a few minutes of discussion, he had decided that the important things he learned were as follows:

1. Riding fast is fun, but has its price. Crashing WILL happen, it hurts, it is not fun, but it is a reality that cyclists must deal with. Unfortunately, he will certainly deal with worse crashes in the future if he makes good on his vow to "ride like Daddy" (Oh, how naive he is...this should not be anyone's aspiration).

2. Riding fast among slower riders/walkers is a bad idea.

3. When something goes horribly wrong, it is OK to hurt and cry, but when an adult arrives, try *really hard* to stop screaming long enough to tell them what needs to be fixed.

This morning on my way out the door, I checked the gear that was hastily put away (I forgot to go back and make sure everything was in its place). Our helmets were all in a pile by the door inside the garage. I looked at his and found a lot of abrasion where the visor used to be.

I am so glad that one of our earliest "lessons learned" talks came from a non-crash situation where he temporarily lost bike privileges for not wearing a helmet.