A Tale of Two Wheels

I had a little adventure this morning. It wasn't the most exciting thing in the world, but it actually had all the elements of a good story.

As Tim was getting ready to leave for work today, I reminded her that she had left her phone upstairs in our bedroom. I accompanied her up to retrieve it. We ended up talking for ten minutes about a computer program that she wanted for her company before she had to leave.

After Tim left, I grabbed a drink (non-alcoholic, it was not yet 8:00 a.m., even a jobless scoundrel like me has some standards) and headed up to my room to watch a show that I had downloaded.

When I entered the bedroom, the first thing that I saw was Tim's iPhone sitting on the chair charging. Its very easy to spot with its pink protective case. She and I had been so intent on the conversation that she had forgotten to retrieve the phone.

I grabbed the phone and dashed downstairs. Tim spends a lot of time on the phone, and if she left it at home, she would probably have to come back or send someone back to retrieve it. "Just maybe," I thought, "maybe I can catch up with her before she leaves our community." I had to catch her before she got out of the front gate of Nichada or all hope of a quick girl-phone reunion was lost. I had one kilometer of opportunity.

So it was quick decision time; bike or car. The car can obviously go faster and requires much less physical effort. The speed advantage, however, is tempered by the fact that their are speed bumps all along the road in Nichada. I can often keep up with cars while on my bike, losing ground on the open stretches, and making it up approaching the speed bumps. There are also bikes, scooters, golf carts and construction along the way. These obstacles are more easily navigated with a bicycle. The car was just too risky. While it might have increased my chance of success, it would have required me to drive very aggressively, possibly putting others lives in danger.

I grabbed my helmet, hopped on the bike, and pedalled with all my might. I juggled between gears 20 and 22 as I exited my complex, and made my way on to the main road through Nichada. Buildings, people and cars were a blur around me. My legs had one purpose, drive the gears to move the bike faster. I rode hard for five minutes with no sign of Tim's van. I could feel the slight burning in my legs and lungs from the sprint. When I was about to give up all hope of ever catching her, I saw that familiar white van up in the distance.

With a renewed spirit, I pushed myself to pedal faster. By the time I reached the circle in front of the school, I had gained ground. Perhaps this was not a fools' errand after all.

Still, I tempered my enthusiasm, because after the circle there would be fewer speed bumps and the road much straighter. I redoubled my efforts, seeking oneness with the bike and the road. I was making up ground. I thought that I might have a chance to catch her. I thought briefly about stopping at one of the guards and asking him to radio ahead to the front gate so that they could tell Tim that I was coming with her phone. I quickly dismissed the idea because it would take me much too long to try to explain what I wanted to the guard. If I was going to save the day, I would have to do it myself.

Tim's slowed as it approached the guard station at the front entrance of Nichada. I was still fifty meters behind, and had but one hope. We are residents in Nichada, so the guards would quickly wave us through. Visitors, however, have to exchange their driver's license for a guest pass. If a visitor was in front of Tim, then perhaps it would give me just enough time to catch up.

My hopes were soon dashed, as Tim's van drove through the exit, unimpeded by a visitor. I started to slow. I had failed. In only fifty meters she would make a turn and be gone. Then a miracle happened. I saw the van slow down and start to turn around. Perhaps Tim had heard my thoughts or felt me coming for her. More likely she had wanted to make a phone call.

I raced to her, arriving before she had completed the turn. As I handed her the phone, I knew that this had been more than just a forgotten phone and desperate bike ride. It was an epic story, just on a very small scale.