Mama WÜleur stumbled upon a stack of Cricket books from the 70's at our school book swap and Olive and I immediately discovered the 'Pedaling Man' by Russell Hoban. It made us think of a certain Steel WÜleur who pedaled his bike from Paris to Brest and back in the wind and weather.
The Pedaling Man
We put him on the roof and we painted him blue,
And the pedaling man know what to do-
He just pedaled, yes he pedaled:
He rode through the night with the wind just right
And he rode clear into the morning,
Riding easy, riding breezy, riding
Slow in the sunrise and the wind out of the east.
A weather vane was what he was-
Cast-iron man with sheet-iron propeller, riding a
Worm gear, holding a little steering wheel,
Iron legs pumping up and down-show him a
Wind and he'd go. Work all day and
All his pay was the weather. Nights, too,
We'd lie in bed and hear him
Creak up there in the dark as he
Swung into the wind and worked up speed,
Humming and thrumming so you could
Feel it all through the house-
The more wind, the faster he went, right through
Spring, summer, and fall.
He rode warm winds out of the south,
Wet winds out of the east, and the
Dry west winds, rode them all with a Serious iron face. Hard-nosed, tight-mouthed
Yankee-looking kind of an iron man.
"Show me a wind and I'll go," he said.
"I'm a pedaling fool and I'm heading for weather."
The weather came and he kept on going, right into
Winter, and the wind out of the north and no letup-
We lived on a hill, and wind was what we got a lot of.