Shanthala and I decided early on that we’d take Maya biking once she got a little bigger. Unable to use my recumbent bike with a child seat, I borrowed a bike and child seat from our friends in Palo Alto. So, one cool summer Sunday evening about two months ago when we were moving back from their house to ours, I got Maya into the child seat, and biked back home. We were a mite nervous that the journey might be too long (its about 7-8 miles) for a first time. Shanthala drove back but was on alert to come pick Maya up if she started protesting the ride. I worried if Maya would object to wearing a helmet, just as she refuses to wear a hat on a sunny day. But, Maya was a trooper, wearing the helmet without so much as a peep, and cheerful throughout the ride. Finding the seat a little short for her long legs, every so often, she stuck them out of the seat hitting my legs. I’d ask her to retract her legs and she would, but stick it back out a few minutes later. Other than that, the ride was incident free.
The bike I borrowed is built like a road bike, with a curved handle bar, a narrow seat and a gear shifter that is an old style up/down shifter. To ride the bike, I have to bend down over the bars. With the child seat, the weight is much more at the back of the cycle giving it a tendency to slide off from under me if I’m not careful at stops. The whole thing requires a little getting used to.
Thrilled with that first ride, the next day, Shanthala and I biked to nearby Shoreline park. Maya was her usual sunny self on the way to the lake, a distance of about 6.5 miles. Once we got there, we let her down and allowed her to wander around the park for a while. When it was time to go, Maya was happy to get back in the seat, but now she didn’t want to put on the helmet. She protested loudly, crying and struggling to pull the helmet off.
Maya’s protests usually last a few seconds to a minute. This time, she wouldn’t give up. She kept crying loudly and trying to get the helmet off the entire way home. We double and triple checked that the straps weren’t pressing on her skin or her throat and that she wasn’t hungry. Nothing was wrong. She just didn’t want the helmet. Biking home as hard as I could seemed my only option to end her misery. Her loud cries attracted the attention of passersby and some seemed suspicious of a guy pedalling hard with a clearly agitated child. I saw a look of “should I call the cops” on the faces of some of the faces. So as we approached people, I started to tell Maya in a loud voice, “Sweetheart, you need to keep the helmet on for a few more minutes. We’ll be home soon”.
We reached home 20 or 25 minutes later. I removed the helmet and Maya stopped crying instantly. It was like a tap being turned off. She started smiling and pointing at some flowers, a plane flying overhead and a crow. Unhappily, I wondered if she’d protest this loudly every time we got on the bike, if this was the end of our biking life together. However, she seemed to have learned the lesson that wearing the helmet is not negotiable and hasn’t protested since that day.
Two weekends back, on a brilliant, sunny, September day, Shanthala and I biked to Shoreline Lake again with Maya. The seasons seem to be jet lagged. Wintry cold weather persisted well into July and now, instead of mild summer days, we’ve been dumped with 90+ degree days. To make matters worse, last week, the temperatures fluctuated over a 30 degree range, from 90+ to lows of 50. But on this day, the weather played the perfect host.
We biked along the same path that I go running, following the Stevens Creek trail all the way to Shoreline lake. The mild sun colored the red and brown of the marshes giving them a fall feel. Once the path crosses the intersection with La Avenida Ave, the trail leaves the shade of trees and becomes a levee, completely exposed to the elements. The wide open space is like a wind tunnel, funnelling strong winds all along the path, upto Shoreline lake. But on this day, there was just the gentle hint of a breeze. The tide was low as we biked along the bay. In the far off distance, I could see a group of pelicans. Maya gestured at the few gulls and ducks still wallowing in the shallow waters. It was idyllic.
Once we got to the lake, we let Maya down, gave her some cashews and allowed her to wander. She immediately headed towards the marina with the boats and wanted to walk to the end of the pier. We were nervous about letting Maya walk on the narrow pier, surrounded by somewhat deep water on both sides.
When I was about 15 years old, we had gone to Nainital, a beautiful hill station in Northern India, close to the Himalayas. Most hill stations in India have a lake, usually in the center of the town. Boating in the lake is a favorite tourist attraction. I loved to go boating, dipping my hands in the cool water as the boatman rowed us from one end of the lake to the other and back. Yielding to my demands (and my mother’s), my father got us into a boat and we started our journey to the far shore.
Once we reached the far shore and the boatman prepared to turn around, my father demanded that the boatman let us off and said that we’d walk back to our starting point, at least a good hour or so away. He said that he was terrified of the boat sinking. “If the boat sinks, who should I save ?”, I remembered him asking, “Your mother, your sister or you ? I don’t want to be faced with such a decision”. We walked back, sullen and angry. My little sister, about six years old then, had to be carried quite a ways.
As I watched Maya walk the pier, the memory of my father’s fear came back to me. But I did not want to transfer my fears to her or to let them restrict her. So, despite some apprehension, I let Maya walk the pier. Though Maya is usually quite careful, she occasionally loses attention and distracted, trips. I kept close to her, trying not to be afraid or nervous. Maya enjoyed walking the pier, pointing at the boats and water. “Agua! Agua!”, she kept exclaiming. She even picked up a gull feather.
As we biked back, I felt exhilarated by the beauty of the day. Along with jogging, biking is the other major physical activity that I enjoy, though I haven’t biked much these past two years. Shanthala and I have enjoyed a few other evening rides with Maya. She seems to relish them too. When she sees the bike with her child seat, she starts gesticulating and demanding to go on a ride.
Watching us bike and jog, and being a part of it, will hopefully make her want to do these things too as she grows up.
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