Bilot

If you happen to be along London Road or McDonald Road in Edinburgh on Saturday morning, or Portobello Road/Moira Terrace/Inchview Terrace (I don’t get why the name of the road changes so frequently) on a Sunday morning, you may see me and my crew.

Me, in front, on my red bike, my yellow reflective vest and my (terrible) grey helmet; our 6-year-old, in the rear, on her blue tagalong, with her pink reflective vest and her pink/white helmet; our 2-year-old, between us, in his bike seat, wearing his white helmet, that used to be a pink Disney Princess helmet, until the outer cover fell off.

We ride. Or, as our kid’s tagalong’s name is (no joke) Wee Ride!

Riding with two kids is hard. There’s the wanting to have a conversation while riding uphill and I’m completely out of breath; the nursery rhyme singing; the tantrums.

The hardest part though, is balance. One kid wants to see the police car going by and leans to the right and whole bike goes rightward. One kid decides he wants to act out the ‘The children on the bus jump up and down’ and the bike rocks. Both kids what to see each other (which I don’t see how is possible with out setup) and the bike sways from side to side.

It’s a skill to get around with them.

To add to it, I got a ‘new’ (used) bike about a month ago and the centre of balance with the kids on is higher than my old bike, so it’s been taking some getting used to.

As we were riding to Portobello a couple of weeks ago; as I was avoiding bumps in the road I saw coming up, avoiding glass and other debris on the the edge of the road, moving out of the way and waving cars to pass by us, I was thinking that to some very, very, small degree, this is what it must be like to be a pilot a commercial plane. A bilot, if you will.

The kids can’t see what I can see; they can’t steer, or break, or make the decision of when we leave from a stop. I am the one who does all that. But, because they are my kids, my goal is to get them from Point A to Point B, with as little pain or stress as possible, and hopefully no accidents along the way. This is what the aim of airline pilots is, is it not? Get passengers from Point A to Point B, with as little pain or stress as possible, and hopefully no accidents along the way.

I’ve been biking since I was very young (3 or 4), and I love it. I love the freedom and the speed. I’ve always been a bit reckless when I bike by alone. I have yet to tell our 6-year old the kind of bike stunts I was doing when I was her age, and don’t think I’ve told my parents either. I’m still a little reckless, but stay within the law; I don’t mind going over bumps; I often try to go as fast as possible, even to the point of regularly breaking the speed limit (20 mph) when riding down Leith Walk. I weave through traffic, when I think it’s safe enough to, and have been known to give a finger or two to drivers who think they own the road. I don’t do any of this with my kids (although our older kid likes to race other bikers when the toddler is not with us, so we do go fast from time to time).

With this mindset, I wonder what it would be like to be a commercial airline pilot, when they fly alone. Do they care about avoiding turbulence? I’m guessing not. Do they care if the plane tilts to one side sharply as it turns? Again, I’m guessing not. I’m guessing, as long as they know what they are doing isn’t going to lead to a crash, a little recklessness while flying solo, isn’t that big a deal.

So, last week, while biking to school with just our older kid, the bike slipped on the ice, and we fell off. I saw the ice, I saw the turn. I probably should have walked around the corner instead of trying to bike it. I was thinking like I solo flyer, and not one with a passenger.

The bilot messed up, and we had an accident. I got a number of cuts on my legs, as they scraped a pedal, the chain and the road beneath us; the wrist that broke my fall is still stiff.

Our kid was not hurt at all. I asked if she was ok and she said she was scared. She said she was scared to keep going, but I said it would be ok. I got her from Point A to Point B -- even with an accident -- without physical injury, but with some stress. I felt terrible.

As I picked her up from school at the end of the day, I asked how she was doing. She looked at me like she didn’t get why I was asking the question. I guess she was ok, and that made me feel better.

So, the next morning, even though it was still icy, we went to school the way we always to.

We(e) ride!