Sullied and Very Brave

I bought these bikes for the family seven years ago.  I got them all refurbished about six weeks ago, with oil on the chains, air in the tires.  Four weeks back my youngest finally learned to ride.  Today, finally, we all went for a ride, together. 

Riding together, my older daughter rushes off with a friend who joined us.  My wife, who hasn’t biked in years but in much the same fashion as I remembered, bikes with perfect posture.   I stick with my younger one and do my best to remind people, alternatively to wait at the next set of lights, and not to worry. 

My neighborhood is not bucolic.  Back home we can head out on remarkable, auto-free, rail-trails and ride through the woods, and over the river.  Rather, we are passing half built development projects, corporate satellite offices, orchards and polluted estuaries.  Any growth on the side of the road feels sullied and very brave.  But it is possible to chart a path away from most traffic.  Until you reach some road that is full of traffic.    We’ll go further rand find something more interesting next time.  

The plans to work during the evening evaporate.  Friends are coming.  Let’s grill some things outside.  Let’s get a bottle of Sancerre.  After magnanimously allowing the kids to choose the tunes for a while, I cave.  That’s better.  The beef is juicy and rare.  It’s dark and my wife doesn’t notice. 

“Yes.  I put the ice cream in the fridge so it would be soft.”