Visitors and Bikes

It is interesting to see what visitors think of our area.  Of course, everyone wants to see the ocean and the trees, but beyond that, it is definitely more suited to personality. My brother enjoyed the microbrews and disc golfing; my mom and sister liked the thrift shops;  Matt’s parents couldn’t get enough of the food.  They visited the farmers markets and nearly all of the organic food stores.  

“It would be bad for me to live near this store!” Linda mentioned as she carefully sifted through the entire aisle of organic and fair-trade chocolate bars.  Once they found their way to the store, his parents kept us supplied in organic goodies for the remainder of their stay.  About half of my groceries come from the organic store, and it is always there, so we don’t get too excited about it.

Matt suggested one final adventure before they left town: a bike ride through the farms in Ferndale. When we chose our route, we picked something perfectly flat and leisurely, no big deal at all.  Unfortunately, Matt’s mom spent the majority of the bike ride struggling with one of my spare bikes and trying out the other bikes.  I wonder if she enjoyed it at all.  I never offered her my bike, even though I saw her eying it up and hinting that I should trade.   My arm hates each and every biking bump and it was the only set of handlebars that doesn’t make it hurt.  Besides, it’s MINE.  I brought Garmin along to see how far we went only to notice that our almost eight miles at  10:30/mi pace is totally runnable and I should have offered my bike up instead.  Sigh, hindsight.

The weather was beautiful.  I’ll be the first to admit that I’m a fair weather cyclist.  Since my arm is so fragile and a slight crash could result in amputation, I’m very, very cautious in rain, sand, gravel, down hills, and on snow.  So for me to say this day was great is huge.  The skies were perfectly blue.  Sun beat down on us as we rode.  A slight breeze kept it comfortable.  I wished the weather would stay like this forever.  

The person that really enjoyed the bike ride was Matt’s dad, Bob.  A quiet and observant man, I see many traits that I love most about Matt come from him.  He and I rode ahead together and he asked very specific questions about the local farms and Victorian houses.  I also think it was the longest conversation he and I have had ….well, ever.  That was pretty cool.  

Matt hung back with his mom.  At one of our breaks near the car, Linda had enough, “I’m not riding anymore,” she said as she crossed her arms, huffed and stood there.  Later, she rallied pushed her bike the rest of the way instead.