Authors: Jeff Stone
“Okay, then,” Phoenix said. “When do we go?”
“Wonderful!” my mother said. She looked at Uncle Tí. “Peter said that he’s busy for the next three days, but he could work with the kids for ten days after that. Do you think Ryan will be okay to ride by then?”
“I believe he’s fine right now,” Uncle Tí said. He turned to Phoenix’s grandfather. “What do you think?”
“He seems good as new,” Phoenix’s grandfather said. “Perhaps better than new. I would be surprised if he has another episode like this. He would benefit greatly from the bicycle training. I believe he should go.”
“What about my dragon bone amounts?” I asked.
“I’ll figure it out and we’ll mail the ten days’ worth to your cousin,” Uncle Tí said. “I’d rather you didn’t try to take it onto an airplane.”
“Maybe we can ship it with the gear,” my mom suggested. “Peter said that I should buy the bikes and other gear here and have it sent to him. It’s going to cost more, but
it will save a lot of time, and I want Ryan to spend as much time on the bike as possible out there. Phoenix, Hú Dié—are you available tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Hú Dié said.
“Me too,” Phoenix said.
“Perfect!” my mom said. “Ryan, you should call Jake right now. If he can go on the trip, ask him if he can join us tomorrow. We’re going shopping!”
“This is going
to be so rad!” Jake said as we all entered Nebo Ridge Bike Shop the next morning. His folks said that he could go to California, and he seemed to be more excited than any of us, which was saying a lot.
Tim, the owner, walked over with an espresso cup in his hand. He smiled warmly. “Well, well! If it isn’t the Vanderhausens and company. Welcome, Susan, Ryan, Phoenix, Jake, and …”
“Hú Dié,” Hú Dié said. She stuck out her hand. “Pleased to meet you, sir.”
Tim shook her hand. “The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Hoo-DEE-ay. I’m Tim.”
She grinned. “You are the second person I have met in Indiana who can say my name properly.”
“I lived overseas for a time,” Tim replied. “Occupational perk of international law. Now I mostly just hang out here.”
Hú Dié glanced around. “Nice place to hang out.”
“Hú Dié and her father own a bike shop in China,” I said.
“Really?” Tim said. “Excellent. Take a look around. Let me know if you see anything I can improve.”
“Okay,” Hú Dié said, “but it all looks great so far. What is that room off to the side, a training space?”
“Exactly. We offer off-season training classes for our customers, as well as for our race team members. During the racing season, we ride outside twice a week. We hold the largest weekly rides in the country. Some days, more than two hundred fifty people show up.”
“That is amazing,” Hú Dié said.
“Join us sometime.”
“I would love to. We have come here to look at road bikes.”
“You’ve come to the right place,” Tim said. “Let me know if there’s anything I can do for you—all of you.”
“Thanks,” we said.
Tim nodded. “Susan, can I get you an espresso? Cappuccino? On the house.”
“No coffee, thank you,” my mom said, “but we’re going to take lots of your time. I need to outfit all four of these rascals. I’m sending them off to train for ten days with my cousin in California.”
“Peter?” Tim asked.
“That’s the one,” my mom said. “If we find what we need today, how quickly can you get four bikes to Carmel-by-the-Sea?”
“Well, there is an airport in Monterey. We could put
everything on a plane and get it there tomorrow. Someone would have to pick it up at the airport, though. If you could wait two days, we could probably get it right to Peter’s door.”
“Two days would be perfect.”
“Let me see what I can do.” Tim headed into a small office. Looking around, I saw a guy I didn’t recognize working alone in the maintenance area. He nodded at me. I nodded back.
“What are you guys waiting for?” my mom asked. “Get to it!”
We spread out, going to the racks of road bikes first. I had no idea where to start, so I just looked for the one with the coolest paint job. I grabbed a bike and began to pull it off the rack.
“Not that one,” Hú Dié said, walking over to me.
“Why not?” I asked.
“The frame is too small. You need one that is fifty-seven centimeters high. That one is fifty-six.”
“Where do you see the label?”
“No label. Trust me. It is a fifty-six and you need a fifty-seven.”
“What difference does a centimeter make on top tube height?”
Hú Dié groaned. “You do not know anything about road bikes, do you?”
“No.”
“Then go pick out some shoes or something and leave the bike to me.”
“Hú Dié,” my mom said, “perhaps you should pick out everybody’s bikes.”
“Sure,” Hú Dié replied. “Hey, guys! Pick out shoes, helmets, bibs, jerseys, socks, gloves, and glasses—try to get clothes that match. It will make us look cool. I am going to take care of the bikes.”
“Ah, man,” Jake said. “I want to pick mine.”
“Then come over here,” Hú Dié said. “I will help you.”
Jake ran over to Hú Dié, and I walked over to Phoenix. He was staring at a rack of mountain bikes.
“Are you fine with this?” I asked.
“Sure,” he said.
“You don’t mind Hú Dié picking out your bike?”
“It’s not my bike, Ryan. It’s your mom’s. I’m going to give it back when we’re done.”
I sighed. “Don’t be that way, Phoenix.”
“What way? I appreciate what your mom is doing, but I know Hú Dié. She’s going to pick good ones. I just don’t feel right hanging on to a bike that costs thousands of dollars. If it makes you feel better, I’ll keep the new helmet and other gear, though I don’t know why we need to get new stuff. We all have gear already.”
“It’s different gear, especially the shoes. Roadies have their own style and their own ways of doing things.”
“I’m not a roadie.”
“You will be for ten days.”
“Whatever. I’m
not
shaving my legs, though.”
I glanced at the peach fuzz on Phoenix’s knees, poking out beneath his cargo shorts. “Shave what?”
Phoenix rolled his eyes.
“Hey, guys!” Jake called out from across the shop. “Check me out!”
I turned and saw him straddling a killer bike. It had a carbon frame and carbon rims.
Phoenix lowered his voice. “That rig has got to be at least five grand. Maybe ten. I’m telling you now, I won’t ride one of those.”
“Suit yourself,” I said. “I think it’s sweet.”
I headed for Jake and shouted, “Hey, bro, where can I get one of those sick rides?”
Before long, the four of us were all geared up and sitting atop our new bikes in the back of the shop. Hú Dié, Jake, and I had high-end models, while Phoenix’s was a solid entry-level road bike. Hú Dié had convinced Tim to let her have free rein of his maintenance area, and she’d adjusted each of our bikes in record time. Tim was so impressed, he offered her a job on the spot. She declined, to the relief of the new guy.
“Nice choice of bikes,” Tim said as he looked us over one last time. “Great outfits, too. You really look like a team.”
Hú Dié beamed.
“I agree,” I said. “Can we take them for a spin?”
“Sure,” Tim said. “The rain isn’t too bad at the moment, but don’t go too far, especially if you haven’t ridden on the road much. It’s a lot different from a mountain bike trail.”
“I ride through the city in China every day,” Hú Dié said. “I can give them some pointers.”
“Even so,” Tim said, “it’s better to be safe than sorry.”
“We understand,” I said. “Where should we go?”
“I suggest our five-mile loop.”
“Five miles!” Jake said. “I thought you said we shouldn’t go too far.”
“Five miles is nothing on a road bike if you’re working hard,” Hú Dié said. “That is less than ten minutes on a sunny day with no traffic.”
Jake’s eyes widened. “That’s like … let me see … thirty miles an hour!”
“Yes,” Hú Dié said. “That is on flat ground. Roadies can easily go faster, especially on downhill runs. They can hit one hundred kilometers per hour on steep downhills, which is more than sixty miles per hour.”
“All right!” Jake exclaimed.
“Don’t get your hopes up,” Tim said. “You’ll be going slower than thirty miles per hour today. The rain may have lessened, but it’s still a little treacherous. Be careful out there. Don’t do anything stupid.” He looked at my mom. “Would you like me to ride with them, Susan?”
“Heavens, no,” my mom said. “But thank you for the offer. I’ll follow behind in my car like I used to for my husband and cousin when they raced together. I know how to keep a safe distance.”
“Perfect,” Tim said. “I’d feel better if someone kept an eye on them.”
My mom turned to us. “What do you say, kids? Are you ready to hit the road?”
Hú Dié, Jake, and I said, “Yeah!”
Phoenix said nothing.
Tim showed us a map and pointed out the easy-to-remember route.
“I’m going to get the car out front,” my mom said. “Don’t start until you see me pull around the building behind you.
Pay no attention to me as you’re riding. It’s my job to keep an eye on all of you, not the other way around.”
She left, and we pushed our bikes through the back door into the slow, steady rain. This shower was gentle compared to yesterday’s downpour, but today’s was cooler. I felt a shiver run down my spine as we lined up in the parking lot.
My mom pulled around the building and lined up behind us. She tapped the horn.
“That’s our cue,” I said.
“I will take the lead,” Hú Dié said.
“No, I’ll do it,” I said.
Hú Dié shrugged. “If you wish. Are we going to race?”
“No,” I said. “This is just a friendly ride.”
We rolled through the parking lot single file. Hú Dié was behind me, followed by Phoenix. Jake was riding caboose.
Within two revolutions of my pedals, I remembered how much I enjoyed the few times I’d been on a road bike. It just felt so … solid. Mountain bikes had shock absorbers, which were great for smoothing out trail bumps, but they also absorbed a fair amount of pedaling energy. Road bikes were far more efficient because they were rigid. Jake had almost had a heart attack when he saw Hú Dié pump his road bike tires up to one hundred fifteen pounds per square inch. Mountain bike tires were usually run at thirty-five or forty pounds.
I turned out of the parking lot, onto the main road. It was an amazing feeling leading the pack. I could see everything. On a mountain bike trail, most of the time all you see
is a blur of trees. Out here, the light rain felt good on my face, and I enjoyed the wind against my shoulders as I rode. The bottoms of my feet were connected to the tops of my pedals, just like on my mountain and cyclocross bikes, only here I was able to keep my pedal stroke uniform and ride at a consistent speed because there weren’t any obstacles to screw up my cadence. My legs never felt so good.
Hú Dié had installed bike computers on our handlebars, and I glanced down at my display.
Fifteen miles per hour.
I looked back and saw that my mother was about a quarter mile behind us. She seemed to be going the same speed we were traveling. Headlights flashed behind her, and a vehicle pulled around, passing her and quickly picking up speed.
“Car!” Jake shouted, and before I could react, the little sports car was rushing alongside us. It hit a long puddle in the road as it passed and threw up a huge wake, washing filthy water over all of us. Bits of grit clung to the tip of my nose and lips. I spat.
“Slow down, jerk!” Jake yelled, even though the car was already long gone.
I blinked several times, wishing I’d worn my sleek new riding sunglasses to keep water from splashing into my eyes.
“Here comes another!” Jake shouted. “And it’s a big one!”
I slowed and veered over to the rightmost edge of the road, crossing the painted lane boundary and hugging the fringe of the asphalt that dropped four inches to a wide
gravel shoulder. With my mountain or ’cross bike, I would have hopped down there in a second. However, I knew I’d be toast with the skinny tires of this road bike, so I kept my line, hugged the fringe, and gripped my handlebars tight as the next vehicle approached.
It was a large SUV, and it passed so close that I could have licked the passenger side mirror. The vehicle’s pressure wave pushed against me, threatening to knock me over the drop. Fortunately, I was able to hold my line until the SUV cleared me and continued up the road.
“Idiot!” Jake shouted. “There was no reason for you to drive that close to us! You had the whole road!”
I glanced back at Hú Dié. “This kind of sucks,” I said.
“This is nothing,” Hú Dié said. “You should see Kaifeng. Just ask Phoenix. It will be better once we are off of this main road.”
We made it to our turnoff without any additional vehicles passing us. The new road was a residential street, and no one was out. I decided to stretch my legs a bit, and I picked up speed. I was beginning to enjoy myself again. Most of the grit had washed off my face, and I no longer held my handlebars in a death grip.
“Now we’re talking!” Jake said from the back. “Lead us to the Promised Land, Beefcake!”