I Can Ride My Bike With No Handlebars (Not)

As a child, Johanna was an avid cyclist. She could navigate the tough streets of Manteca with nothing but her magenta huffy and a purple Jammers helmet.

Unfortunately, such is not the case these days. I learned this the hard way when I decided we should go on a 20-mile bike ride around Sioux Falls.

Her first obstacle, of course, was mounting the bike. We had to be discreet about this because my friend Chris, who loaned us the bikes, could NOT -- under any conditions -- see that we really hadn't mastered the skill most five year olds have.

There was a litany of other obstacles to our bike ride, among them: Johanna's inability to brake, overall lack of balance on the seat and inability to ride downhill. After about half an hour of practice and a child's helmet later, we were on our way.

The parks were gorgeous. Johanna liked them. But around mile seven, we started experiencing the beginning signs of fatigue. So we did what any tired bicyclist would do in a similar situation -- checked out the latest shark documentary at the local IMAX theater.

We expected a provocative exploration of a shark's world. But we should have know it'd be a dud when the only people in the 200-seat auditorium were a mother and her 5-year-old son.

"The Search for the Lost Sharks" followed the adventure of a 70-year-old scientist and her "friend" (we suspected there was more than friendship going on between those two, judging by the smoldering onscreen chemistry) Randy Fox. Randy had been mauled by a shark about 40 years ago, so when he took off his shirt in the middle of the flick (trust me, the 70-year-old took note), he had a giant gash spanning his torso. Randy tried to conquer his TOTALLY IRRATIONAL fear of sharks by submerging himself in a large plexiglass tube and tempting nearby Great White Sharks with ground mackerel spewing from a hose.

His underwater antics, however, led to more near-death experiences (as if we didn't already see that coming). At one point, a flipper was lost and he nearly sunk to the bottom of the sea. Fortunately, an emergency diver was there to save his life. In an unrelated incident, while submerged in the clear plexiglass tube and spewing large quantities of ground mackerel from a hose, he angered a Great White who, in a fit of rage, began pounding against the tube and ultimately severed Randy's oxygen line. Go figure.

Thankfully, for the 70-year-old scientist "friend," Randy escaped iin one piece.

As you can tell, the flick was hopelessly boring and obviously staged. At one point, the sound even went out for a good two minutes, but nobody really complained, especially since there were only 4 people in the theater. It's only redeeming quality was that Randy's torso was about 50-feet tall, which provided some eye candy for Johanna who happens to have a penchant for older men. But that's another story altogether.

We left the theater, ready to complete the last...oh...10 miles of our journey.

Within half a mile, Johanna began experiencing excruciating pain in the lower groin region, exacerbated by the bicycle seat. This made things...difficult.

We plotted ways to be rescued by a knight in shining armor: aka, someone with a vehicle who could take us and the bikes home. Among our schemes: physically detatching the chain from the gear, and then acting like we didn't understand what was wrong, or entirely removing a wheel and disposing of its body in the nearby Skunk River.

But Johanna's unwavering determination empowered her to push throught the pain and arrive back home, completely pooped but ready for dinner. Dinner, we would soon find, would be an adventure unto itself...