Pedaling Towards The Stars (Read In English) | Stories Sotto Le Stelle Podcast | Short Stories For Children And The Young At Heart

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PEDALING TOWARDS THE STARS

One fine day, in the squares of the city of Ciclopoli, large billboards appeared advertising a bicycle race; everyone could participate, from zero years and up. There wasn’t much information, but it suggested that those interested should contact the Association of Bicycles with Wheels, located at Via dei Manubri Number Eight, behind the playground. The citizens got informed. The start was scheduled for the first Saturday of June from the Piazzale of the Astronomical Observatory, next to the Municipal Library. The finish line was at the top of the Hill of Dreams, and the prize was a star for everyone who crossed the finish line. Registrations had already started and, of course, were free for everyone. Many requests for participation were received.

There was a lot of talk about the event, and all the inhabitants of Ciclopoli, including animals, wanted to lend a hand. Volunteers were certainly not lacking. Finally, the day of departure arrived, and the city turned into a great festival. There was a lot of chatter from the balconies of the houses and even from the dome of the Astronomical Observatory, where some inhabitants had climbed to watch the start. Spectators from everywhere cheered on the race participants.

Kites in bright colors were tied to the tricycles to keep an eye on the kids. In the playground, where the city's permanent puppet theater was located, the puppets peeked out to watch the show themselves; the strings moved, and a round of applause filled the air. The church bells rang in celebration. All the participants were ready at the start with bikes, unicycles, and tricycles, and all together they formed a varied and numerous group.

The start took place despite the great confusion. Fortunately, some fawns were on duty along the race route. They had a megaphone and wore special headphones, which worked with voice transmission to communicate with each other. Little clouds in the clear sky acted as flying race assistants, drawing arrows to indicate the path to the runners at each intersection.

Shortly after the start, a fawn took the megaphone: “Attention, attention, the grandfather with the green jacket has a flat tire.” Everyone stopped to wait for the tire to be repaired. Shortly after, a second fawn: “Everyone stop! The kid in the yellow shorts needs to pee.” Another brief stop and a little further ahead, the first refreshment stop. Sandwiches, sweets, and fruit were already ready to be distributed, and everyone lined up to refresh themselves. Tall-stemmed flowers wearing multicolored aprons served the cyclists as they arrived. After a great feast, they set off at full speed again. A small hare was running among the bushes at the edge of the road, and a boy in a purple shirt, curious as he was, left the race course to chase it. The nearby fawn took his megaphone: “New communication! Stop, everyone, a cyclist has gone off course,” he hurried to reach him and brought him back to the road. Everyone back on the saddle.

Pedaling, pedaling, they reached the great Field of Happiness full of flowers where the grandparents got lost chasing butterflies and the children lay down to rest. Time was passing. “Let's hurry, let's hurry, the top is still far away,” said the grandparents. Owls, marmots, squirrels, and martens began to follow the runners, cheering them on. Meanwhile, the fawn on the lookout: “Help, the grandmother with the pink skirt has fallen,” but fortunately nothing was broken, and the race resumed quickly.

The fastest cyclists happily reached the top of the Hill of Dreams in the early afternoon. The rest of the group arrived at sunset when it was already dark. It was later than expected, and at that point, they couldn't return to the city. How could they spend the night up there? They had no supplies, let alone blankets and sleeping bags. The animals following them understood the problem, and from the nearest farmhouse, they procured milk and cheese for everyone. They ate abundantly and, tired, lay down on the grass around the top after parking their bicycles. It was a bit chilly. In the night air, there was a great buzz. The stars were deciding what to do. They held hands and transformed the sky into a great blanket. How wonderful, a great warmth enveloped all the cyclists who fell asleep.

Suddenly, while everything seemed calm, first a flash, then a thunder, and a powerful breath as if caused by the breath of a giant from the top of the hill. No fear, it was just the automatic anti-theft alarm to wake the sleeping cyclists. Awake and with their ears well-tuned to listen, they heard a strange tinkling coming from the free parking lot around the curve. This caused a commotion among the race participants, who jumped to their feet and ran towards the parking lot just in time to see some magpies, some real thieves: bicycle thieves. They had just stolen many parts: bolts, bells, chains, handlebars, rims, and spokes, carrying them away in flight.

“What a disaster! And now what do we do?” The fawns did not lose heart and with their powerful means available, they sent an S.O.S. to an elderly carpenter, who was also a blacksmith in the nearby village. Received the signal, he didn't hesitate for a moment and left for the rescue with the siren on his work van. Before dawn, all the bicycles, unicycles, and tricycles of every kind had been skillfully and quickly repaired — as best as the situation allowed. But the fact is that from the first to the last, the cyclists were able to set off again towards Ciclopoli. Their means fixed as much as possible, hopping and limping here and there, they went down the descent, and everyone was laughing their heads off.

What great fun! Each one carried with them the promised prize in memory of the cycling race on the Hill of Dreams: a shining star and even a piece of the blanket made of the sky from the previous night.

And the Magpies?

Well, they had been working for years on building their bicycles, and the race with an overnight stay on the hill offered them an opportunity not to be missed. Their bikes were completed, and that very evening, they were seen pedaling towards the sunset and disappearing on the horizon.
The End

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Each story is currently written and narrated in both Italian (On The Website https://www.storiesottolestelle.com/) and English.
The translation from Italian (the original language) to English and the reading of the stories are performed using Generative Artificial Intelligence — which perhaps has a touch of magic... We hope it has done a good job!
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