exapkib
12-12-2015, 06:02 PM
One of those sunny winter afternoons that calls you out of your warm house; the sunshine pouring through the window, assuring you that it can't be that cold outside . . .
My son felt it too, and we decided to head out for a ride together. I knew that our afternoon would be cut short, not only by the sun's early departure, but by my riding companion's tender age and short legs. We pulled on our coats and gloves, helmeted up, and coasted down the driveway.
We decided to go left, up the hill. Climbing on the way out means coasting home, just the kind of wisdom we would need to make it through an epic day like the one we had planned. We quickly settled into a rhythm, his feet shuffling along the smooth tarmac, my legs turning over the lowest gear available. After about 50 feet of climbing we stopped to take in the view and catch our breath.
At this point, we detoured into the church parking lot. Familiar territory, perfect for the kind of mixed riding we had targeted today. A great mix of pavement, gravel, fall leaves, and grassy fields. Just the place for transforming our bikes into jet planes, spaceships, snow speeders, and submarines. Almost unnoticed, snowflakes began to swirl around us. When the temperature of our hands overpowered our imaginations, we turned for home. Back down the hill and up the driveway, the call of hot chocolate urging us forward.
Sometimes the ride is about the adventure, sometimes it's the scenery. Today, though, it was about something else entirely. Nothing better than time and energy invested in the relationships that you care about the most.
http://i1336.photobucket.com/albums/o641/1zaxxon/IMG_20151212_155922933_zpsltmz9pho.jpg (http://s1336.photobucket.com/user/1zaxxon/media/IMG_20151212_155922933_zpsltmz9pho.jpg.html)
My son felt it too, and we decided to head out for a ride together. I knew that our afternoon would be cut short, not only by the sun's early departure, but by my riding companion's tender age and short legs. We pulled on our coats and gloves, helmeted up, and coasted down the driveway.
We decided to go left, up the hill. Climbing on the way out means coasting home, just the kind of wisdom we would need to make it through an epic day like the one we had planned. We quickly settled into a rhythm, his feet shuffling along the smooth tarmac, my legs turning over the lowest gear available. After about 50 feet of climbing we stopped to take in the view and catch our breath.
At this point, we detoured into the church parking lot. Familiar territory, perfect for the kind of mixed riding we had targeted today. A great mix of pavement, gravel, fall leaves, and grassy fields. Just the place for transforming our bikes into jet planes, spaceships, snow speeders, and submarines. Almost unnoticed, snowflakes began to swirl around us. When the temperature of our hands overpowered our imaginations, we turned for home. Back down the hill and up the driveway, the call of hot chocolate urging us forward.
Sometimes the ride is about the adventure, sometimes it's the scenery. Today, though, it was about something else entirely. Nothing better than time and energy invested in the relationships that you care about the most.
http://i1336.photobucket.com/albums/o641/1zaxxon/IMG_20151212_155922933_zpsltmz9pho.jpg (http://s1336.photobucket.com/user/1zaxxon/media/IMG_20151212_155922933_zpsltmz9pho.jpg.html)