the lumberyard bike tour

There's a guy who rides with me most Saturday mornings. He didn't go the last two weeks, which is when I went 27 miles, but he was back this past Saturday. I figured we wouldn't go that far, but I'd push him to about 20.

Friday night the youngster asked if he could go too.

"Dad, how far do you think you'll ride tomorrow morning?"

"Well, Mr. Tom is going with me, so we won't go as far....maybe 20 miles."

"Will you wake me up? I want to go with you."

"Are you sure? 20 miles is a long way."

"Yeah. I want to go too...pleeeeeaaaase?"

"OK, but it's a long way and once you get out there, there's no way home except to ride."

In the back of my mind I'm thinking, I'll have my cell phone and if he really can't make it, I can call home and have the wife come with the rescue vehicle and get him. (Afterwards, the wife told me she was fully expecting the phone call.)

So we got up and he went. After a while he asked if we were turning around soon, and I said..."Yeah...soon...but not yet." He started slowing down occasionally and I'd tell him to pick it up a bit, and he did. We finally got back to our neighborhood after about an hour and forty-five minutes, and he was draggin', but still peddling. We were getting close to the house and I asked him if he was OK. He said yeah, but he just wanted to get home. We got there and stood out in the garage. The wife got him something to drink, and he asked how far we went. I told him 22 miles, and he got this big grin on his face. Then he went in the house. I walked in a while later and went looking for him. He was upstairs, laying on his bed reading. I asked again if he was OK.

"Yeah. My legs are so sore. The hardest part was getting up the stairs. I had no idea bike riding could be that hard."

He was doing much better by Sunday.