The scruffy high school kid was shaking his head back and forth, as he stood at the gate and polished off his hamburger.
“Nope, you can’t take your bikes in the tulip fields.”
“Well, we don’t have a lock to lock them up, so we have to take them with us.”
“Nope, not allowed.”
“C’mon, we’re not going to ride them, we’re just going to walk them.”
“Nope.”
I don’t have much patience for rules that don’t make sense to me, so ordinarily I would’ve just gone down the road and crossed over into the tulip fields anyway, bike or no bike. But, since Laurie was with me, I restrained myself.
We spent the rest of our 40 mile ride trying to figure out where we were going to find a bike lock in the middle of farm country on a Sunday afternoon. I could possibly leave my bike unattended, but Laurie’s bike is very nice, so we needed a lock. I had given up all hope of tiptoeing through the tulips, when Laurie rode up behind me with the obvious solution.
“Why don’t we just throw the bikes in the car when we’re done riding, drive back to the tulip gardens, lock the car, and then go for a walk in fields.”
Oh yeah. I forgot about the car. Everything worked out after all.
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