When Elizabeth gets onto her bike, her whole demeanor changes. She talks excitedly. Her feet whirl in circles, and she laughs at her own ability to create such speed. Funny, I still feel the same way as an adult.
Dad and Jenny and I rode the Hilly Hundred this weekend. As usual, we had a blast. There is something that happens when all three of us get out on our respective bikes, well, something other than Jenny not being able to shift the gears correctly! (Just kidding Jenny! You have already paid your dues for that one. That bike is out to get you!)
People talk about the simplicity and freedom associated with bike riding. I could not agree more. All I think about is the next hill, what I will eat at the next stop, and being able to clip out of my pedals so I don't fall over!
My sister and Dad and I chat up different people. I always say, "Gosh, we meet the nicest people here every year." To which Jenny answered, "Yeah well, we're pretty nice ourselves!" Which of course we are. Something I have always admired about my Dad is his ability to walk into a room of strangers and make conversation, tell stories and have people laughing in no time. Jenny and I can hold our own as well. When you put the three of us together at a biking event, we're ready to make anyone our friend, and we do!
I wore my old RAGBRI jersey to breakfast the first day of the ride. A woman excitedly ran up to me and said, "Did you do RAGBRI?" I answered yes. "Did you just LOVE it?" To which I had to answer, NO. I felt badly, as she had the time of her life. (Ragbri is a week long ride across Iowa. It is known for the party atmosphere and is held in the hottest week of July! You end up riding a little over 500 miles. For me it was too much testosterone, as the ride is also 95% male, and way too much heat, 120 degree heat indexes.) When she found out I rode it with my Dad though, her eyes teared up. "I wish I had known about rides like that before my Dad was gone. I am guessing she was about 50 or so.
And that is just the whole thing. My Dad is the one who took us on all of those bike rides from picnics in Minnesota, to the long weekends on the Sparta-Elroy trail. He bought me a French racing bike for my first 21 speed. I never did have a 10 speed. Then he went shopping with me for "Goldie" my lovely Trek that I got for college graduation.
More than the bike, the Hilly is about time with my Dad and my sister. Time when all we have to do is haul out our biking gear, hope for good weather, ride the given route, and eat some food.
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