My
birthday was Saturday, the same day a guy jumped out of a plane at 25,000 feet
over the California desert and landed in a big net. My challenges are more along the lines of an
extended bike ride. There’s less chance
of me going Splat!
So
I went out today along the Illinois Prairie Path, which links to the Fox River
Trail, which includes two rises away from the river that are killers. The last time I did this, a guy I passed by yelled
out, Good Luck. The really tough part,
though, isn’t peddling uphill, it’s knowing I’ve got another two hours of
biking ahead of me before I’m back at my car.
Then, when the ride’s over, it feels like I’m lifting a thousand-pound
weight up on the carrier.
I
do it because I want the challenge and I love the Midwestern landscape in
summer. I’m also forever mystified by how
the sky can be full of clouds yet sunny.
Better yet, I can ponder this and other profound questions without being
bothered. Unlike the Chicago lakefront
trail, I can go miles on the path without seeing a person. At one point, an eagle dove out of a tree a
couple of hundred feet ahead; that was impressive, and I feel for Mr. Eagle’s
prey. Occasionally, I run into people on
horseback. Wait, I should rephrase
that. You never ever want to run into a
horse with a bike. Any creature that big
is entitled to the right of way.
I
got home just in time for the end of MLB’s version of Festivus, aka, the trade
deadline. Chris Sale and Jose Quintana
aren’t going anywhere, at least not yet.
That’s a belated birthday gift I’ll happily take.
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