Cheater!!

I have been called a lot of things but cheater? Come on! In any case, the grocery store shopping has happened less frequent than before so this means when we need food we really need food. Also, we love to eat cheese and our need for large 5 lb blocks of kosher cheese are located at stores on Mercer Island or up north at University Village. Other things we need are gefilte fish but I have settled myself with sardines because my husband likes them best.

Not too long ago I went solo across the I-90 bridge to retrieve these delicacies and other stuff. I am still nursing Baby Peyos. Frankly, like the first kid, he will probably be nursing the next two years. I usually give him a good feeding and then leave him with Mr. Peyos and race across the bridge.

Not my favorite way to lock a bike (QFC Mercer Island)

So, yes, it looks like I am in a super race, a race against time when my baby will want more milkies. I decided to try the other store for this mythical cheese block, QFC. When I got across the bridge I encountered my always issue with QFC, ZERO bike parking.  I hate doing this, but I locked my bike to a tree. I don't consider this the most secure options but their was nothing to lock my bike to. This also meant I was too paranoid to shop slow. I bought a few items and left.

QFC (Rainier Ave) My bike does not fit on the bike rack
My next stop, Albertsons, was a much better locking experience. Thanks for having a bike rack!

So, as time goes on my baby gets closer to needing me. I get to the i-90 bridge and start my race against baby time. On the downhill I like to use regenerative mode so I don't have to brake. I love that! On the flat part of the bridge I rode leasurly and out of nowhere, without a bell or voice indication some Fred in spandex races by my. Okay, whatever. My bike was loaded with beer, cheese and a ton of other stuff.

As I get closer to the bridge I kick the assist mode in 4 and gracefully start making my accent. At this point I start to catch up with that Fred. He could hear me getting closer. No way is he going to allow a woman on a cargo bike pass him. NO WAY! He kept going fast but I kept getting closer. On my phone I could see my husband texting, "someone woke up!". I speed up but the Fred thinks I am racing him. We get to the end of the bridge, he bikes up the monster hill and I make my way to the tunnel and he yells, "Cheater!" What?? Me? I yell, "Lazy! You don't even have beer on your bike!" Maybe he thought he was being funny but sheesh, I was rushing to get home. I made it home in record time to feed the baby and avoid screaming.

If you ever see me on the I-90 bridge biking like I am racing, just know it's not you. I am trying to get home to the human being that needs to be feed. Calling me a cheater, sheesh!

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