Chapter 8

Dad and I regain our balance and start pedaling like crazy. I’m not sure if we’re catching up, because I still can’t see the other riders. But this is the fastest we’ve gone all race.

“Dad, do you need some water?” I ask, handing him the gallon jug.

I think my timing is perfect. Dad’s been working hard and needs to stay hydrated. Pedaling is tough. I should know; I’ve done it at least twenty times so far.

Balancing isn’t easy either, but I think Dad has the harder job. Not only does he have to pedal, but he’s in charge of steering and using the front brakes.

Turns out, my timing isn’t perfect after all. Dad turns to his right to grab the water just as I lean to the right to hand him the jug. This is when things take a turn for the worse. Or at least a turn to the right.

With both of us leaning right, we swerve off the road, straight into the woods, and down a big hill!

The trees engulf us. We rocket down a “path” that Dad is following. Or maybe he’s creating it. It’s too dark to tell. Trees fly past us, slapping at our faces as if we said something offensive to them.

“Aren’t you glad I brought your motorcycle helm—” I say right before I swallow a giant mosquito.

Evidently, mosquitoes like to practice flying in large groups in the woods.

I reach into my backpack to grab some bug spray. I lean forward and spray it in front of us to get rid of the mosquitoes. This sort of works. I can’t see any more mosquitoes, but I also can’t see anything at all.

You know how they say, “Don’t spit into the wind”? Well, don’t use bug spray while you’re racing through the woods on a bike.

The spray flies right back, hitting me in the face. I bet a mosquito won’t land on my eyeball for the rest of the summer.

That’s when I hear Dad laughing. I guess I told him the same joke as I told all the kids at school and he was just now remembering it.

“Having a full face shield is amazing!” Dad shouts. “And this shortcut through the woods is working out great!”

I look up and see a blurry opening through the trees. Is that sunlight?

After six more slaps from offended trees, we burst out of the woods and onto the main road! Donny and his dad have to swerve out of the way as we catch up to them.

I don’t feel comfortable being that close to Donny, but the sudden shade is nice since I forgot to pack sunscreen.

“Pedal!” Dad shouts.

This doesn’t feel like the right time to remind him this day isn’t about winning but about spending time together. So I obey and start pedaling like crazy. That’s when I feel us slowing down. I also feel something tugging on my shoulder.

I turn to see that Donny’s holding on to me. He’s cheating by slowing us down.

“What are you doing back there?” Dad shouts.

Donny grins at me. I’m not smiling. I’m mad. I also make a mental note to actually start my summer plan of brushing my teeth every morning. I definitely don’t want to end up with a set of chompers like the ones grinning at me.

With us slowing down, Donny lets go of me. He and his dad begin to pass us. Gus’s Hardware Store and the finish line are just around the corner. I have to use my amazing brain or we’ll never win . . . which today isn’t about.

“Donny!” I shout, holding out our water jug. “You have to stay hydrated!”

“Thanks,” Donny says, grabbing the big container.

Their bike immediately wobbles and veers off the road into some tall grass. Actually, it may have been trees. It’s hard to tell since Donny and his dad are so big.

Dad and I are suddenly much, much lighter and faster. I pump my pedals, and we pick up more speed. We round the corner toward a huge cheering crowd!

Okay, it’s more like three people crossing the street. But they do cheer when Dad swerves out of the way and doesn’t hit them.

Dad and I cross the finish line and win the race!

Dad brings the bike to a stop. I’m so excited that I jump off immediately, forgetting it’s my job to balance. The bike instantly falls over. Thankfully it doesn’t get a scratch on it since my dad cushions the fall.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

“We won!” Dad shouts. “Now help me lift my head so I can get this helmet off.”

Later, the man in charge of the race hands us the trophy. Some of the other teams complain that we took a shortcut.

“I didn’t think anyone would be dumb enou—um . . . I didn’t think anyone would attempt to cut through the woods like that,” says the man in charge of the race. “However, the rules plainly state the first team across the finish line wins, as long as they rode the whole way. And the Smileys did that.”

This reminds me of the Bible verse from Matthew 7:13-14 that says, “The gate is large and the road is wide that leads to ruin. Many people go that way. But the gate is small and the road is narrow that leads to life. Only a few people find it.”

We didn’t take the easy way. Our way was narrow and hard to find. Plus, my wise financial decision (the cheaper water jug) put us on a different path than everyone else.

I admit, that may not be exactly what the Bible verse means. But the point is that Dad and I pedaled through, and it took us to victory!

Life is that way. You have to follow God’s path, keep moving, and trust Him to guide you. Speaking of which, I invite the man in charge and all the other racers to church. That leaves just 467 more to go!

Donny’s dad surprises me by saying they may check out this church thing. He seems to be a good sport. He also congratulates us by shaking my dad’s hand. Actually, Donny’s dad shakes my dad’s entire forearm. I’m telling you, that man is huge!

“Well, this is one of the strangest days I’ve ever had,” Dad says to me on the ride home.

“That’s nothing,” I say. “Did I tell you about Triple-H? He’s making my summer even stranger.”