The Bike Ride
On Memorial Day, Debbie and I slept late, drank our coffee and read the paper. About mid-morning, Debbie said, “If you want to take that bike ride we talked about, we should maybe go now because the wind is supposed to get kind of strong this afternoon.” I said, “Yep, let’s go. Maybe we could have lunch in Panora.”
So we got dressed in a hurry, filled our water bottles and headed out. When we got to Cooper (7 miles), I realized that I was starving (not surprising since we didn’t eat breakfast) and that we hadn’t packed any snacks. Debbie said, “I think there’s a gas station in the next town.” So we went 5 more miles to Herndon; there was no gas station. Debbie said, “that’s ok I know there is a restaurant in the next town.” So we went 5 more miles to Yale. Yes, victory; there is a restaurant… but the restaurant is closed for the holiday.
Now we had a choice: turn around and go home 17 mileswithout food or go on another 6 miles to Panora. Panora it is. We arrived about 1pm and had a great lunch at PJ’s. We stopped at a grocery store for snacks to take with us, refilled our water bottles and headed for home.
Except now it was 2 o’clock. The sun was high and hot. Debbie’s sunscreen had worn off. I hadn’t put any on to begin with. The forecasted wind showed up on cue and was mostly trying to blow us over or in our faces. When we left on our bike ride we left in a hurry, so I decided to skip my customary bike shorts… my customary padded bike shorts.
So… we’re not having fun. We’re hurting. We’re whining. And then things took a dark turn.
In one town we saw two people riding horses. One of us said, “We could trade our bikes for those horses.” Then two people in a golf cart drove by. The other of us said, “If they stop to use the bathroom, we could take that cart.” Then as if to taunt us, 2 couples on motorcycles drove by and waved as if to say, ‘we’ll be in Jefferson is about 5 minutes. How about you?’ “If we punctured one of these tires, someone would have to come and get us.”
We called Debbie’s son who doesn’t have a driver’s license and asked about his friend, you know the one with the truck. Her son said, “He’s out of town with his family.” “Plus, don’t you think since you got yourself into this mess, you should really get yourself out of it.” (Karma can be a bitter pill.) Then he hung up on us.
“What if we could get ourselves arrested by making out in this public park?” “No good, we’re still in Guthrie County. They’d take us in the wrong direction.”
We road on toward home. The wind blew against us. Thoughts raced through my mind: ‘Now I know why bike shorts are so helpful. Why is Debbie’s back so red? I can’t feel my hands any more.’
Debbie’s son called her cell phone wondering ‘what’s for dinner’ and when would we be home to make it.
Somewhere between Herndon and Jefferson, Debbie said, “Go on without me. You can make it. I’m just holding you back.” “No dear,” I said, “we’re in this together.” At one point (and I’m not making this up), Debbie said, “You should remarry. I hope you will.”
Our spirits brightened considerably about3 miles south of Jefferson, until we rounded a gentle bend and a 20 mph gust hit us directly in the face.
Eventually, 46 miles and 8 hours after we started out, limping burned and blistered in more than one unmentionable spot, we made it home. We showered. Debbie’s son made dinner. We collapsed exhausted.
And that’s it… Life is a journey. Sometimes it’s glorious; sometimes it’s difficult. We headed out ill prepared. Along the way we found some nourishment and supplies. We thought about giving up. We learned some painful lessons. Finally, we limped our way home and found some comfort. Now we have the scars to show for the journey.
And for the record… I’m thankful for the story and I’d rather have a difficult ride with my wife than an easy one with anyone else.
God is good. Peace,
Pastor
