I’m using some accumulated PTO from work this week. That means more bike rides!
In a previous life, a quarter of a century ago, before having kids, I used to ride a lot. I rode for transportation. And I took long bike rides with my husband. I liked cycling back then. But I’m experiencing a new level of joy with it now. Maybe because I’ve experienced a couple of decades of not being able to just go, of always planning even the smallest moves in my day around other people and their needs.
Summer has dropped itself on us here suddenly, as it does in Missouri. So I went out early (ish) this morning before it got too hot. I saw a fair number of bikers, runners and walkers on the trail, at least while I was still in city limits. I went out into the country a couple off miles before turning around.
On into the wild.
I’ll tell you this about myself on a bicycle — I’m not the fastest rider out there. I get passed by a lot of other riders. And I don’t care! That’s part of the joy of cycling alone. I don’t have to worry about keeping up with anyone. I set my own pace, stopping when I want and resuming when I want. I’m not competing with anyone.
I recently read a book by Jill Grunenwald, called “Running With a Police Escort: Tales from the Back of the Pack.” It’s a great encouragement for those of us who are winning no races, but are still doing the thing.
Anyway, while guys in jerseys were passing me this morning, I met a fellow traveler with whom I could sympathize.
Peonies raise their many tight fists toward the sky. Within a week, the blooms will burst open.
A fun guy has found a place to hang out.
At first glance, I thought this was a huge toad.
A maple tree really wants to propagate, but this doesn’t look like fertile ground to me.
I’m going to start substituting bike riding blog posts in place of walking ones, on occasion. I’ve had Frieda (my bicycle) for a few weeks now. My rides are getting a little longer, as weather and time permit.
Sure, I had stuff I should have been getting done around the house. But the weather couldn’t have been better. So Frieda and I boogied down the trail out of town, just far enough to see some cows.
We stand in fields and eat grass – cows.
Frieda at the cow pasture.
Having a mid-life crisis? Forget the ridiculous sports car. Get yourself a bicycle!
Nothing lasts forever. This is all that’s left of a trusty old tree that provided me a shady respite on my walk to work for the past several years.
My size 8 1/2 (Women’s American) foot for scale.
I have no idea how many rings are there. Many – let’s leave it at that. I’m sure the tree was older than some of the surrounding houses. Goodbye old friend.
Yesterday, the day before Easter, I took a more urban walk than usual, going through downtown to a day-long event. So no flowers in this post. Usual caveats apply — this is only to share my observations and experiences. I know my photos are as amateur as it gets.
I really want to spend a day sitting inside that tower looking out a window.
I had a feeling I would see this sign.
Is the signal getting through?
A religious scooter.
I prefer spring blankets to winter ones.
We had a long, long, long, hard, hard, hard winter here. What walks I took were utilitarian and accomplished as quickly as possible, with no taking off of gloves to snap photos.
But spring has arrived at long last. I see color popping here and there, new blossoms, life re-emerging.
We hunkered down, endured through the gray and cold. Then one day, there were flowers.