I mentioned in my previous post that the four of us recently went for a bike ride at a nearby park. We’d heard this park had a quite a few bike trails, and we wanted to give them a ride before the spring temperatures climb into the mid-90’s on a regular basis. (At which point I no longer go outside, unless I’m on my way to the swimming pool.)
Two adults, two kids, two adult bikes, one kid bike, and one Chariot – it was crowded in our Freestyle.
Will showed off a little before riding his bike for a few minutes, and Hallie prepared for whatever we might encounter.
I’m always really grateful that I’m not the one who pulls the Chariot behind my bike.
For the first time in my life, at least that I can remember, I saw someone proudly flying the confederate flag. I felt anything but proud.
Also for the first time in my life, I saw a trebuchet in action. I kept the kids far away from the apparatus, however, because its operators were beer-guzzling college students.
As luck would have it, we didn’t discover the really cool bike trail until about five minutes before the kids were ready to be done riding together in the Chariot. After we’d heard “I’m hungry! I have to go potty! I’m hot! I don’t want to sit next to Hallie anymore!” from Will and “HALLIE JUICE! NO WILL NO WILL NO WILL!” from Hallie we decided to turn around and bike back to our car.
It’ll be a while before we can bike ride as a family again (it’ll take another eight or so weeks for Tom’s broken collarbone to completely heal, and after that it’ll be too hot outside), but in the meantime Will keeps practicing and Hallie keeps crying on her tricycle because her feet don’t reach the pedals.