She’d been bugging me for over a week. See, after upgrading her bike and getting her some practice time –and confidence– in actually mounting, riding, turning, stopping, and generally avoiding crashing into things (like people), the girl was apparently ready for a serious ride.
After all, how many times can you go round and round and round and round the same old park without going crazy, huh?
On Sunday I was out for a sixteen kilometer run with my group in the morning and despite the forecast of rain and dreary weather, the trails were clear, the sky was blue, and I was feeling full of pep and energy.
So, shortly after getting home and having lunch I told her: we’re going out for a ride.
I strapped on the GoPro, affixing it to the top of my helmet so that I looked even more goofy than I normally do on a bike, and we set off.
Just to the east of us one of the little starter-home communities put a lot of effort into parks and trails. Our neighbourhood by no means sucks, but we just don’t have the sheer area of pretty little connected trails with parks and lakes and trees as does our next door neighbourhood. Nothing that crossing a single road couldn’t fix, though.
We set off. Claire was overly cautious, which as her dad I probably shouldn’t complain about but –well– there is such as thing as TOO careful, y’know, like braking fifty feet away from an intersection and walking her bike. I mean, five feet… even ten, okay.
And we biked. I’d run this route numerous times before, and in fact (as I alluded above) I had run it that very morning. So I know we’d hit the three klick mark, roughly, when the groaning complaints of “dad, I’m kinda tired” started.
We about-faced, and pedalled home under the bright sun. Not one crash. Not one scrape. Six wonderful klicks in total and a little more confidence in a little girl.