Two Wheels One Baby

Back in March Megan and I wanted to go to Wisconsin for a wedding, and to visit friends and family. This would be Annika’s first flight, and we did not relish the idea of it lasting a second longer than necessary, so we opted for the only direct flight we could find into Milwaukee. There was one problem: that flight left before 7am. Normally our method for getting to the airport is public transportation – bus to Harvard Square, Red Line to South Station, Silver line bus to Logan. But to be on time for a flight that early, we would have to catch the first bus, the first subway, and the first silver line, and all of them would have to be running on time. And even then we’d be technically “late,” arriving with 40 minutes to spare instead of the prescribed hour.

What most people do in this situation is beg a friend to drive them, or take a cab. I didn’t have the heart to rouse some kindly neighbor at 5am, and we hate cabs. “Hate” is a strong word and I don’t toss it out lightly. Cucumbers, clowns, needles, Dick Cheney, and modern urban cab drivers… the world would instantly be better place if of all of them suddenly vanished. Germaine to this discussion, cabbies around here drive incredibly dangerously, are rude / aggressive towards bicyclists (and motorcyclists), and they lobby with all their might against bike lanes. It’s their road, and you are in their way. So f_ck ‘em… they don’t get our hard earned dough at 5am.

That left us with Plan C: Bike to the airport. Now we’ve done this once before, but not with a baby. Not only does her adorable little body take up space, but she travels with a retinue of sleep-aiding devices, toys, feeding equipment, clothing, and butt care products that take up even more additional room. The first order of business, then, was to figure out how all of this stuff would travel safely the whole 8 miles each way from Fresh Pond to Logan, no matter what the weather was like.

First we hit up TJ Maxx a few times and scored some small rolling carry-on luggage. These were just big enough to cram our personal effects into, but small enough to be rigged onto the back of a bike as panniers… somehow. These would go on one bike, and the baby and the remainder of the luggage would go behind the second bike. As it happened, the night before the flight came and I had to try and rig up the TJ Maxx bags without Megan. I enlisted our neighbor Rush to help, and being a sailor he whipped out some hot-pink poly rope and had it lashed together in seconds. There were some minor issues with things rubbing on other things, but it was more than workable.

The morning of, we got out the door close to the right time and began heading east. Whoever carries the baby trailer needs to ride in front, so that the second bike can ride cover just behind and to the car-side so the cars don’t get too close. Megan’s bike can carry panniers and mine can’t, so I had to lead. But Megan knows the way and I don’t, so I enlisted the GPS device I got for my birthday. Megan mapped it out for me, I translated it into points and a route for the Garmin, downloaded it to the device, and mounted it to the handle bars. That way I could easily see how far ahead the next turn was and focus on the road. So we biked the whole way there by that method: Megan covering for me from behind, and me following the GPS’s plotted points.

Just like last time, East Boston and Chelsea have some of the worst road conditions in the northern hemisphere. Even having ridden them once before doesn’t lessen the shock and/or awe much. They are THAT bad. Also those same roads are hoppin’ at 6am, it turns out, with cabs and delivery trucks. What they thought when they saw two luggage-laden bicycles trundling along through the craters I cannot guess. I am amazed that neither of us got a flat tire going over those roads, looking back on it. The GPS has a nice feature (ETA at Destination) that helped reassure us that we were going to be ok time-wise. As we slowed down, I could see us “arriving” later at the airport, and as we sped up, I could see us getting there earlier. It’s a great tool for managing your pace when it matters.

So we arrived, locked everything up, hustled in, made our flight, enjoyed Wisconsin, flew back, and found all our stuff more or less as we left it. The trailer had been opened and inspected, then left open. And it was raining steadily when we landed, with temps in the 50’s. So we tried a combo of riding and subwaying that proved worse than if we’d just ridden the whole soggy way there by bike. Too many subway stations have only narrow turnstiles that don’t allow a bike trailer to fit through (or a wheelchair, for that matter, so tough luck to the handicapped folk I guess). Several times we had to leave one bike at the bottom of some stairs and double-team the bike/trailer combo up or down several flights. As I said, it would’ve been easier in hindsight to just retrace our steps and stay above ground. And all of it was still better than taking a cab.