Where the Other Wild Things Are

Maurice Sendak hooked me with his children's stories years before I had kids. I had picked up a copy of "Where the Wild Things Are" before I was seriously dating anyone and took great relish in sharing it with my kids once we began reading to them.

Today, Max's way of handling Wild Things appeals to my sense of playfulness in dealing with traffic while riding a bike. Sure, it's serious business trying to avoid a sudden conservation-of-momentum physics experiment with a fast moving vehicle, but if there's a light-hearted side, I'm looking for it, making sure others can see it and pointing it out to everyone I know.

My thanks to Mr. Sendak for his story. My apologies if my adaptation takes away from the original.

The day Max wore his bicycle helmet and made mischief of one kind and another his mother called him wild thing and Max said "I'll run you over!" so he was sent to bed without eating anything.

That very night in Max's room a city grew and grew - with streets and buildings until his ceiling hung with traffic lights and the walls became storefronts and sidewalks and a bike lane tumbled by with a bicycle just the right size for Max and he rode off through night and day and in and out of weeks and almost over a year to where the wild things are.

And when he came to the place where the wild things are they honked their horrible horns and gnashed their terrible gears and gunned their terrible engines till Max said "GIVE ME THREE FEET!" and tamed them with the magic trick of looking them straight in the eyes without blinking and saying "Good Morning!" with a friendly smile and they were frightened and called him the most wild thing of all and made him king of all wild things.

"And now," cried Max, "let the bicycle riding start!"

 

"Now stop!" Max said and sent the wild things off without stopping for gas or oil. And Max the king of all wild things was lonely and wanted to be where someone loved him best of all.

Then all around from far away across the world other cyclists started riding with him so he gave up being king of where the wild things are.

But the wild things cried, "Oh please don't go - we'll take you for a ride - we love you so!"

And Max said, "No!"

The wild things honked their horrible horns and gnashed their terrible gears and gunned their terrible engines but Max climbed on his bicycle and rode back over a year and in and out of weeks and through a day and into the night of his very own room where he found his supper was waiting for him and it was still hot.

Commute Summary

Round Trip Distance: 19.0
Number of Cyclists seen: 34
In-bound Route: Lullwater/PATH trail
Out-bound Route: Emory via Clifton
Weather: Sunny, but not too warm