Bicycle Day

It’s a sad fact of life that it’s easier to set goals for yourself and your family than it is to live them.

Case in point: Christian and I want our family to be a family that enjoys being physically active. That doesn’t mean we want the kids involved in every sport imaginable. It means that we want to take walks, ride bikes, do things together outdoors.

But with multiple little ones, you have to have the equipment to haul them, and we all know that Christian and I are fundamentally cheap. So it’s taken us over a year to collect the bare minimum to go bicycling as a family–the last piece being the rack to go on the van so we can actually take the bikes to the trail.

And so on Saturday, we went out to Rocheport and rented the necessities:
The trailalong wouldn’t fit on my bike, so Christian got Alex…

And I got the cart with the little ones. I think the look on their faces is saying, “Ummm…Mommy, this may be a wee bit too much closeness for a three year old and a one year old!” We shall see.

It was a gorgeous day to be outside, and it seemed as if the entire world agreed. The rental depot at Rocheport was a zoo when we arrived. But we chose to head upriver, sacrificing the river view but also the I-70 noise, and found ourselves almost the only people on the trail.

The sweetness in the air was that fresh, natural kind that comes not from the heavy perfume of flowering trees but from the air itself, the smell of newborn leaves and the drifting odor of wild onions. (Mmmmm…) We rode out about 3 1/2 miles and stopped for lunch on a levee beside a Boy Scout camp. And as I watched my family explore, the sweetness of the moment made my heart hurt for joy.

I think this may be a better thing to do with dandelions. At least, as long as you’re thirty miles from my yard.

After lunch, we started back. Yes, we’re wimps. But we don’t want to push it too far and turn the kids off to the idea.

There’s just something about riding along those sheer bluff faces, covered by curtains of vines.

By now, the little ones were tired, and tired of each other. There was a lot of whining, shrieking, and sippy-cup thievery going on in my caboose. We passed back through the old railroad tunnel about 1:30 p.m.

This is one of my favorite parts of the Katy Trail, with the north end of it stone block and brick arch, the south end hewn straight out of the rock.

We arrived back at the depot just in time to avoid a complete meltdown of the younger troops. To make sure the day ended on a sweet note, we went for…what else?

Sweet, indeed.

Seven Clown Circus

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