Pedal, Pedal, Pedal

by Kimberly Jensen

The fog in the valley stood still and thick as we pulled into the parking lot and found a parking space near the playground. The kids exited the car and quickly zipped up their jackets to avoid the chill of the early morning air. I finished gathering our helmets and water bottles and then outfitted the kids for a family bike ride that my 14-year-old daughter, Tasia, was dreading before it even began. Bennett, my nine-year-old was already bouncing and couldn't wait for me to get the bikes off the rack on the car.

"How long is this ride?" Tasia whined as she snapped her helmet in place and adjusted her glamour sunglasses.

"Until we are done," I replied. "It's going to be fun."

"Sure it will be," she said, surely rolling her eyes behind her sunglasses.

I had been looking forward to the ride for months. I had a passion and love for cycling long distances and I was excited to share it with my family. When I found out that my husband and oldest son had already committed to a Boy Scout camping trip, I was disappointed and almost opted out of doing the ride but, I had already paid the fee and decided that I wanted my other two kids to experience it.

So the three of us woke up early, drove the hour to the starting point, pulled on our biking gloves, snapped on our helmets, filled our water bottles and joined the other riders for a bike ride in the beautiful Heber Valley of Utah.

As the sun burned off the morning fog, our six legs were setting a nice pace along the nearly vacant roads that were spotted here and there with other brightly clad cyclists.

We warmed up and shed our jackets, stopping here and there for a look at the scenery and a little hydration. The road rumbled beneath our tires and the ribbon of the road twisted through a beautiful countryside full of scents and animals that surely would be missed if driven through in a car.

My daughter rode out in front, Bennett took the middle position and I took up the rear. On most of the roads, there was plenty of shoulder, but in many areas, I had to corral my youngest son like a sheep to make sure he didn't dart out into traffic. I of course, played the role of the herder with my bright neon yellow shirt that could be seen from at least a mile away. Bennett was more interested in the cows and birds than in actually watching the road in front of him.

As the miles disappeared behind our back tires, my daughter began to actually enjoy the ride while Bennett quoted his favorite movies, line by line.

We passed a sign that indicated a rest stop was ahead. As we turned the corner, we saw the rest stop was at the top of a hill.

"Okay kids, keep your speed. You need to pedal hard to get to the top of this hill," I said as I switched gears and began my ascent.

Tasia switched her gears and began pedaling quickly up the hill, but Bennett, who was on his BMX bike, didn't have any gears so he just stood up out of the saddle pounded on the pedals and moved his legs around and around.

"Pedal, pedal, pedal," he said to himself as the spinning of his legs slowed. "You can do it. Pedal, pedal, pedal," he said to himself again.

As he approached the top of the hill, just yards away from the rest stop, he jumped off the bike and walked it the rest of the way. It was mile 12.5 and it was the first rest stop of the ride.

Bennett wheeled his bike up to the tables that held drinks and snacks for the resting cyclists. I looked around and noticed that Bennett was by far the youngest rider in the group and by my observation, the only one with Autism.

"Hey you made it halfway. Great job kids," I patted both of my kids on their backs and smiled as they gulped down purple Gatorade and water. Tasia was no longer complaining but seemed to actually be enjoying the ride.

We rested and chatted with the other riders before embarking on the second half of our journey. We passed by farms, fields, friendly locals and even a plastic goat we had to stop and see if it really was fake (that took at least 20 minutes.)

As we rounded the final stretch, we noticed how fall was making its presence known with leaves of gold, red and orange dotting the mountainside. I took in a deep breath and thanked God for my legs, my lungs and the beauty of my children enjoying the outdoors and recognizing their own physical strength.

We pulled into the parking lot and cheered at finishing a 26 mile ride. Bennett dropped his bike and immediately ran over to the monkey bars, releasing more of his unlimited energy. Tasia was smiling, proud of her accomplishment and I just reveled in the fact that my son, diagnosed with what many people call a "devastating diagnosis" just rode a marathon on his BMX bike with no gears and never complained, not once.

Today, when Bennett is taking on a task that he finds difficult I often hear him say, "Pedal, pedal, pedal" whether it's skiing, hiking or climbing. For this family, Bennett's Autism hasn't been devastating; it's been enlightening, encouraging and enriching.

On occasion, when we are riding the rolling hills of life, we have to remind ourselves to pedal, pedal, pedal, take a rest when we get to the top and drink purple Gatorade.

Kimberly Jensen was born and raised in Sandy, Utah and graduated from the University of Utah in 1991 with a B.S. in Communication. She worked as a radio news anchor for KBOI/KQFC and as a public relations specialist for the Idaho Transportation Department in Boise, Idaho. Kimberly and her family moved to Battle Ground, Washington in 2001 where she became a full time mom and writer. Her first children's book, Always the Elf by Cedar Fort Publishing came out in Fall 2007. Two of her stories have been published in Chicken Soup for the Soul: Children With Special Needs. She is an avid cyclist and loves spending time with her family and taking them on outdoor adventures. She now lives in Utah with her husband Mark, her three children; Tasia, Clayton and Bennett and her two dogs Simba and Ruby.