So there we were, just the three of us. Tony, Wendy and myself out for a bike ride. Wendy had her nice new bike out on her maiden voyage. This was something like a 25-30 mile bike ride and Tony’s constant bragging made my butt and I somewhat jealous of his new bicycle seat. I decided to take him up on his earlier offer of trying his seat out. This, eventually, would be a mistake.

So I took off on his bike like a kid with a new pair of sneakers. Tony wanted nothing of me being in the lead. This is some kind of a childhood problem that he still deals with frequently. The three of us are now south bound on the Burke Gillman trail and approaching a portion where the south bound and the northbound sections are separated, leaving about 15 feet and a nice little decline as a separator.

Tony evidently saw this as his opportunity to take back the lead. I hear a little rumble behind me and see Tony holding a face of the cross between a dog hanging his head out of a window traveling at 55 mph and a motor cross cyclist with white knuckles. Yes, Tony was going for it by taking a short cut down the decline and onto the northbound traffic (there are no head on collisions mom, so keep reading). I immediately stopped because I knew what was about to happen. Right before he was about to make it to the safe pavement, Tony hit a nice bump or grove that sent him sliding onto the pavement with my bike.

Tony then reminded me of a ...wait. Remember when snickers would do something bad and hid under the chair, leaving only his nose to be seen. If there were a chair available, Tony would have reminded me of snickers. Well, after Wendy and I caught our breaths from laughing we went to see if 10 year old Tony was injured. I brushed off his knees while Wendy whipped his nose. He was fine, minus his ego, and we all made it back. My seat, not Tony’s nice new one, sports a nice hole in the side now. Thank you Tony.