A few days ago I wrote about getting a flat tire and having to walk more than an hour home.

Just as I was looking into getting it repaired, my wife had already told my mother-in-law what had happened.

Before I knew it, she showed up with her own pedal-assist bicycle.

A mamachari.

She had bought it about two years ago when Chappie was still a beagle puppy. Her plan had been to cycle with him to Mount Kinka for her weekly hikes.

That plan didn’t last very long.

Chappie refused to sit still in the basket, making it unsafe to ride.

So the bicycle ended up standing in storage, collecting dust.

Now she thought I could make good use of it.

I have to admit, I was surprised.

A mamachari wasn’t exactly what I had imagined myself riding.

It’s the kind of bicycle you often see mothers using to take their children around town.

At first I hesitated.

Then curiosity got the better of me.

As usual.

The more I looked at it, the more I thought:

Why not?

After all, back in the Netherlands I happily rode an omafiets—the classic Dutch granny bike—for years.

Nobody cared.

In fact, it was almost expected.

So why would anyone care if I rode a mamachari in rural Japan?

They probably don’t.

And honestly…

neither do I.

So despite the rain and humidity, I couldn’t resist taking it out for a ride.

Within minutes I was happily cycling through the back streets of my own neighborhood, getting completely lost.

I had never ridden a pedal-assist bicycle before.

I hadn’t expected it to feel so effortless.

The little electric push made cycling almost too easy.

The bike itself is a bit too small for me, but raising the saddle solved most of that.

It turned out to be much more comfortable than I expected.

As I rode around, another thought crossed my mind.

Maybe this little mamachari will take me farther than I had imagined.

Perhaps along the Kiso River.

Maybe even all the way to Inuyama.

Hopefully without another flat tire.

That thought still lingers somewhere in the back of my mind.

But if it happens again…

I’ll deal with it then.

For now, it feels like a new chapter is quietly beginning.

To be continued.