“Never mind that, Lump. What’s my time?”

“Time to get on the grass! Look behind you!” Bones looked back and saw the white lines from his tires, so he launched the Basket Barge hard up onto the curb. The Barge was a vintage Schwinn, popular back in the ’70s. Bones got it at a yard sale for fifteen bucks because, according to him, it was built like a Mack Truck.

Just over three minutes into the ride, Bones had definitely lost time with his bob-and-weave routine. He made a hard right at the Olsons’ house just before the intersection of Grove and Van Dien. But I didn’t think there was a way through because of the pool and the tennis court back there.

Then I lost sight of him on the RACK. The system worked perfectly in public areas but not so great in private property.

“Where you going, Bones?! The Olsons have a pool back there and . . .”

The woman’s scream was deafening . . . “AHHHHHH!!!” and that was coming through Bones’ headset! I still couldn’t see him, though.

“What’s going on, Bones?”

“Whoa! I don’t think she was expecting me!”

“What? Who?!”

“Mrs. Olson! And she wasn’t wearing a bathing suit!” CRASH!!! Bones came flying back into view on the west side of Grove Street. He had managed to cut out the entire intersection! At just under three and a half minutes into the ride, he made up some serious time.

I gave him a time check. “Three minutes, forty-five seconds . . . it’s gonna be close, Bones!”

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