How Did That Bike Get Stuck in the Tree?

how did this happen? Sure an article investigates the story behind it, but see if you can write something more interesting for a back story.

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Submitted by Jen

There are 9 written responses to this assignment.

It was just time, that’s all.

Written by Ron Wodaski on November 21, 2013 3:34 am
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We hopped on the 20th century limited at the last second. I was 12 and Sammy was nine, so I had the only ticket.

The plan was pretty simple: her mother’s old bicycle in the garage was broke but we oiled it up and it rolled nice and easy. No chain, though, so what Sammy did was run with it in her arms from the sidewalk, jumped the curb as the doors opened, and she was in the room, the door closed and off we went.

Of course the program was just for me, not for a bike, and not for Sammy. So instead of her mother’s home town in Italy in 1912, we wound up about ten feet in the air, in the woods. Sammy hung onto the handlebars but the bike was rusted and they broke off, she fell, messed up her ankle and broke a rib. I was only ever in the air, so I hit the ground first and ohmyeffinggod did it hurt. (tore a tendon, itty bitty bone break but it hurt like an ax was in my thigh)

I don’t remember screaming but some farmer or something came and got and took us into Vashon.

It was only like an hour before time travel was invented, so eventually they understood where we’d come from and we got back OK.

You’d think if they could invent time travel, they’d invent a proper way to fix bones and tendons and things. But I walk with a limp. And Sammy’s mother never let her come over again.

I’m 65. They named the barriers they put up in the stations after me; they’re called Betty Bars.

Was I scared? I never thought about not getting back, though of course if we’d been just a little bit unlucky we would have been stuck back then and really, I was more scared when Sammy’s mom gave me what for about the bike. She decided to leave it. I think the farmer made up a story about it being left against the tree by a kid in like 1955 and the tree grew into it, or something like that. Not true. Now you now.

Heck, most people don’t even know about time travel, do they. Tsk tsk.

There was a time …

Written by @dogtrax on November 20, 2013 6:49 am
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Long ago, before you were born, child, the trees moved across this planet on bikes. They’d go on annual pilgrimages to the soil of their births, sort of like salmon do. But trees do not have fins, and they don’t do well in water. So, bikes. Imagine the world in which trees of all shapes and sizes were in bicycle lanes, pedaling madly to find a wee bit of soil of earth from where they were seeded, and where they might have lived, except for the dumb luck of some bird or squirrel or north wind blowing in a hurricane. The trees would gather up nutrients from their place of birth, remember the fauna of ancient times and then hustle on back to their own plot of land on their bikes. This was in the time after the Dinosaurs were destroyed after their plot to build a spaceship went horribly awry and before the age of Man whose tinkering spirit was no doubt inspired by the amazing sites of migrating trees on bikes. Here, the very last bike remains, forever rooted inside this tree. Many mysteries remain, including how a tree with no legs could pedal a bike built for two feet. But history is filled with mysteries, my child. One can only wonder at the world and give a gentle chuckle.

Mystery Solved

Written by Cris Crissman @Cris2B on November 20, 2013 12:18 am
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Few people know and fewer people would tell that Jimmy Hoffa was riding a bike when he disappeared . . .


Written by @injenuity on November 19, 2013 10:44 pm
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She had been watching him for years, though not in a stalkerish way. She admired him. She observed his confident posture and his gentle way with children. He had none of her prickliness, which she tried not to resent. She was certain he did not know she existed. At her very finest, she was merely mediocre.

Her admiration changed to jealousy the day the treehouse arrived. It came in a kit. Two men backed up a truck and in an afternoon assembled the hideaway that led her to plot her revenge. The neighborhood children now swarmed to his yard, but she could no longer see them playing. Scattered bikes and muffled laughter now only hinted at the adventures she once freely observed.

She made her move one autumn afternoon as the setting sun painted shadows on naked branches. The boy fell in silence, his body embraced by the pile of decaying leaves. The children cheered for a moment, then stopped. A single scream pierced the frigid dusk.

In the chaos of the scene, she stretched lower and lower, hiding the bike at the base of her trunk. Her evergreen branches shrouded the discarded plaything, as one-by-one, the remaining children retrieved their bikes and rode home to tell the tale.

Evolution produces another oddity

Written by @byzantiumbooks on November 19, 2013 9:47 pm
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Yes, survival of the fittest sometimes produces odd results. Just look at human beings!

On the other hand, how would you explain this picture? Apparently this tree’s ancestors for generations were surrounded by bicycles. Many trees died without producing new trees, quite possibly by bicycles running them over as mere sprouts.

But soon, some trees had growths, benign cysts, that took the form of bicycle parts. The more successful variations outlived the others as real bicycles avoided collisions with them. Finally, trees with fully developed bicycles embedded in their trunks became the majority species.

Now that bicycles have been largely superseded by automobiles, perhaps a new species of tree will develop with twice as many tires, and a body to enclose an internal combustion engine and space for occupants. Personally, this author would like to have a Winnebago Tree.

1 sentence

Written by Jumanji5000 on November 19, 2013 7:27 pm
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John thought he’d perfected his teleportation device…

So THAT’s Where It Went!

Written by @iamTalkyTina on November 19, 2013 4:33 pm
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Always afeared of trees,
Little Hansel
Chopped and Hewed.
Under duress,
Each day,
He felled and thinned,
At Dad’s request,
To make the
Returning home, at end of day,
Astride his trusty bike.

Until that fateful day
Reaching down,
He felt a branch take hold,
And in was hauled.

Ne’er e’re be seen again.


Written by CogDog on November 19, 2013 2:33 pm
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Hang on ET, we are going to make it! I can see the light!


Damnit ET, I’m pedaling as fast as I can! And you’ve just been sitting on your ass eating bags of Reece’s Pieces, you are fat, too fat for space, lard butt.


I’ve been doing all the work to save your butt, running from the feds.. hiding you from Mom, putting up with your bad jokes… .now… oi.. cant get enough speed! We need more speed


Hey, Green Turd, whose neighborhood is this? I know where I am going. Damn, I cant wait to send your stinky blob back home. You farts are more noxious than the dog’s.


Honestly, ET, you are becoming a real pain in my ass. Ok, Top of this hill, down the slope to the valley, enough speed to clear the forest, and we can jump it!


Grunt. … Grunt… Picking up speed…. this is it! We are lifting off! Just need a bit more… can you do anything to help?


We are doing it! Wheels off the ground! There’s the forest! Just a bit more… can’t spin.. any… more.. faster.. oh shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh that tree………………….. craaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaash

Boom! Bam! Zowie! Splat!

“ELL…I….OT … ET… NO…. GO….. HOME…….”

It’s Obviously…

Written by Stephen Downes on November 19, 2013 10:52 am
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phase shifting gone wrong. Next time you see a glowing blue box in a field, leave it alone!