Godspeed, Rhode Gear

Today I had a little moment as I reflected on yet another rite of passage in my family. As a fairly bike-centric individual, it was with some emotion that I recognized the last trip I will give a child in our Rhode Gear mounted bike seat, as I gave Josie - my third and last child - her final ride to preschool in the seat that her older brothers wore out before her.

As a lifelong bike lover, I made three grand purchases in one fell swoop right before my wedding to Amy. Feeling disappointed with the road bike I bought new in 1991 and rode all through college – skinny tires, inability to handle anything but semi-smooth roadways, a too large frame – I felt I needed a well fitting mountain bike: fat tires, ride anywhere, no restrictions. The road bike was wasting away in the garage with bent rims, flat tires, and cobwebs, but a small influx of cash – due, sadly, to my mother’s death – led me to the idea to put my whole family immediately back on two wheels.

Vincent was almost three when Amy and I married, and I envisioned long, leisurely bike rides through the Land Park neighborhood where we rented a house. I surprised her for our wedding with two brand new Marin mountain bikes from Sierra Outfitters, and a Blackburn utility rack with a Rhode Gear removable bike seat for Vincent. I pondered long and hard about what style of toting mechanism to use for bringing Vincent along on our rides, and hopefully helping foster a love of cycling in his eager little mind. At this time, the options were pretty much limited to mountable ride-behind seats, such as the Rhode Gear, and towable pull-behind trailers. The word on the street was that trailers were safer, as they cannot fall over. With a ride-behind seat if you fall the kid falls. However, the pull-behind trailer made your riding “footprint” about twice as long, they were much more expensive, and I just plain didn’t like the idea of my little guy riding way back there behind me, enclosed in his screened bubble, strapped in with a five-point harness and helmet, down at ground level. How much fun is that? No, I wanted him right up there with me where all the action was.

I wanted us to be able to talk as we rode.

The seat was a hit. We rode all around that neighborhood, up to William Land Park, wherever, usually with him singing at the top of his lungs “It’s a mall worl’ after all, it’s a mall worl’ after all,” having come back from Disneyland shortly after the wedding for the family-friendly portion of the honeymoon.

A few months later we moved to River Park, and Vincent got his own little bike with training wheels. A year or two later the training wheels came off, he was up on his own two-wheeler, and he now had a little brother to take over the Rhode Gear seat. Henry may not have been quite as enthusiastic about riding at first, but he was a good sport about it. I searched high and low for a helmet small enough to fit a kid not yet one year old. It’s a good thing too, because although many, myself included, dispute the ultimate benefit of bicycle helmets to prevent serious injury – something for which they are not designed – Henry’s did indeed prevent a very ouchy boo-boo when I idiotically fell over up at the shopping center, while simply mounting my bike and preparing to ride. He, dutifully strapped in to the Rhode Gear, fell with the bike headlong into the super-stuccoed pillar in front of the old River Park market. Chalk one up for the pull-behind trailer advocates, but he survived to ride another day.

Henry learned to love that bike seat as his brother did before him, and as his sister did after him, even if they all found the soothing cycling motion a great nap inducer. However, when Henry graduated to his own training-wheeled bicycle, he didn’t take to it as enthusiastically as I had hoped. He wanted to continue riding in the Rhode Gear, for which his new sister Josie was now old enough. Yikes! Two kids, one bike seat. What’s a dad to do?

The answer was the Trail-a-bike, for which I thank my own dad and stepmom. This is one of those half-bike deals with one wheel, its own pedals, handlebars, and a long attachment arm that clips onto your seat post. With the handlebars to hold on to (not to steer), pedals to pump, the Trail-a-bike really gave Henry the feeling of riding a two-wheeler, even though he was only doing about half the work. So with Amy’s bike (she traded in the Marin mountain bike for beach cruiser...smart woman) and mine both equipped with a hitch for the Trail-a-bike, Henry could ride behind me when necessary, or behind Amy when I had the Rhode Gear seat attached for Josie: the third kid to enjoy riding behind Dad in it.

Now Vincent and Henry are both confident cyclists, and Josie herself has graduated to the Trail-a-bike, and looks so proud riding back there “on her own” like a big kid. Then why does she still ride to preschool in the Rhode Gear bike seat? After starting seriously commuting by bicycle in the spring of 2005 and putting major miles on that Marin, I discovered my pants were starting to get worn out on the inner thigh. (Insert your own joke here.) I figured it was due to the excessive biking, and a new pair of Dockers every month might be the price I pay for fitness, fun, and environmentally friendly transportation. Amy disagreed: what we saved on gas we spent twice again on Dockers. Finally I discovered the culprit was the Trail-a-bike hitch rubbing ever so slightly against my pants. I removed the hitch and voila, no more ruined pants! However, this meant no more pulling any kids on the Trail-a-bike behind my bike.

Since many days I ride Josie to preschool on my way to work, we decided we needed to hold on to the Rhode Gear seat a little longer, knowing it would only have to hold out until the end of her preschool tenure. The reflectors have fallen off, and its foam headrest is hanging on literally by threads. Until I figured out how to wrench the Blackburn rack back into shape after repeated bruising by the Trail-a-bike’s attachment arm, I actually bungee corded the Rhode Gear to the rack (probably not too bright a move, but I was able to convince Amy it was safe). The way Josie’s outgrowing it, the petite girl looks like a gargantuan. But we only had to hold out until the end of June! Just a few more months...weeks...days!

And today was that day: the last day. The last time one of my kids rode in the Rhode Gear. Funny that I’ve dedicated all this space to this particular milestone, when the admittedly more massive milestone comes tomorrow, when our last kid has her last day of preschool. Hugs will be given, tears will be shed, pictures will be taken. But today was about retiring the Rhode Gear bike seat after three kids outgrew it. That damned seat has meant so much to me, I couldn’t bear to see its last ride go unacknowledged. Godspeed, Rhode Gear. Godspeed.