My name is Jiří Pirk, or Birk if you like. I come from Lednice. I'm sure you know it. It's a town almost 50 kilometers from Brno and now we have a minaret there. I'm a wheelwright in Lednice. That means I make wooden wheels for wagons and carriages. It's a pretty good trade, I can't say.
I always grab one at the pub after work. To clear my head. Once, when my friends and I were drinking our eighth bucket, in a kind of pride, or God knows why, I bet that in one day I would cut down a tree, make a bicycle out of it and roll the bicycle all the way to Brno. I get up in the morning, wondering how I got to bed, and suddenly that terrible bet flashes through my mind.
Oh, my God! I quickly pulled up my pants and headed into the woods. By 7:30 the tree was in the workshop and I started working on the bike. It was finished just as the sun was directly overhead. Hours like church. I rolled the bike out of the Ice House, and people were looking like crazy... and trades. I had to throw two sausages at myself in Zidlochovice. I didn't even have time to bite and I ran on to Brno.
Špilberk appeared before me in the distance sometime after seven o'clock and it was still a long way away. Ugh, I only just made it. They closed the gate right behind me. The next day I got a receipt from the town hall and left my bike there. Just don't roll it back. I had the bet in my pocket.
The neighbours in the icehouse were a few gold pieces poorer and I vowed once and for all that there is always enough time for such bets. Well, that bicycle still hangs in the town hall.
