Nothing like a forecasted weekend of rain, rain and more rain to get you started in the wrong direction. And that's what I was staring at this past Friday, the 13th.
Don't get me wrong, I had big plans. With City Beverage's annual appreciation get together of free Beer and Brats scheduled for Saturday, it would've taken a little more than rain to get me away there. But, as befits the stereotype of the constantly-wrong forecaster, there was no rain Saturday morning. Instead, the kids and I headed off to Field Hockey and the aforementioned lunch and beer tasting. The young ones toted root beers around and on-lookers made disparaging faces which let me know I was doing things just right. So far, it had been misty, but nothing ugly.
We were getting ready to head out of the house for the next stage of our Daddy day out when we ran into two Pirate racers, the self-acknowledged Battenkill Brothers, back from a long ride out. These Pirate Racing/CLM double agents are my cycling heroes. I see them and imagine myself 15 years younger, fit and glowing in quasi-Aryan splendor.
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| Tell me they ain't glowing... I want to glow like that. |
The rest of the day went well, with trips to a birthday party, some bookstores and the Greek Festival. Awesome.
Oh, there were some significant thunderstorms around 3am Sunday morning.
Sunday started to looks mighty sunny as well. So sunny, in fact, that the little man and I went for a ride.
We meandered westward and ended up at the Greek Festival location again. We took the backroads home and, with about a mile left to go, the Bear was starting to show signs of wear. He made it home, but was tuckered out. It was great riding with him. As he pointed out, we are now riding every weekend. I told him if we went out one more time, it would be graph-worthy.
The biggest news, outside of the lack of rain, is that we have added a new bike to the stable. This is HUGE news, as it is for the wife. She wants to be part of some family rides and is ready to go. She had a couple rules, the biggest of which was, "No bike-shop bikes." I was, as you might imagine, somewhat crushed by this rule, but realized that getting the cRAB on the bike is bigger than the cult of the bikeshop. So it goes.
The bike is a Diamondback Lustre and, upon getting it home, she road up and down the street and then, with the Bear rejuvenated and ready to rock, rode together with him around the block. Interestingly enough, he had Journey blaring out of his portable iPod speakers as they rode. Don't Stop Believing, Bear.
So, the new chapter begins.
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