On September 29th, 2007, the day of our 28th wedding anniversary, my husband asked, "How 'bout going riding tomorrow...just the two of us."
I needed a change of scenery and being alone with my husband sounded like a fun thing. So we left the boys at home and went out.
Well...this was a pretty long steep hill. The picture doesn't reflect the slant of it. I kept thinking..."I'm almost at the top! I'm almost at the top!" But the top never came.
You can see the trail winding up in the background. I was climbing and climbing, and trying to avoid slipping into periodic long deep ruts here and there in the road. Suddenly I didn't make one of the turns and my bike rolled over a log and fell. Since this ground was tilted, and my bike weighs 225 pounds--my husband was not thrilled. Fortunately another guy came up the hill and helped him pull the bike out. I hiked up the rest of the hill on foot.
At the top we sat down on a log and rested. It was hot--about 88 degrees. (Hot for climbing hills in that outfit!)
Sometimes I wonder if I'm crazy.
But I do love the outdoors. Yet I think I would rather meander along a nice dirt road through beautiful countryside. But when you ride with a man, the chances are...that you won't meander. Try..just try...going riding with a man and NOT climbing a hill...bouncing over rocks...zooming around burms and spinning doughnuts.
Actually we had a pretty good time all in all. We rode 50 miles through the mountains! No more crashes the rest of the day (Oh...He did take me out to a nice dinner the night before!)