oooops

GREAT DAY FOR A RIDE!

The morning's forecast was for more of the same sunshine as grandson Dane (left) and son Brian with wife Kate (right rear) rolled across my dam.  That's my bike in the foreground enjoying the morning's sun.  I pushed it there from its shady parking place to help evaporate the night's condensation.

Soon I was suited up and we meandered southeast through Butler, Mohican State Park, Jelloway, and Danville, headed for a church camp north of Walhonding.  It was the last day of this camping cycle and we intended to surprise grand daughter Brittany who was there as a counselor.

Both she and Dane have enjoyed many, many years of camping experience at the remote facility.

Cycling enthusiasts will recognize Dane's ride as a "crotch rocket."  It certainly is.  Brian's ride is an older Yamaha cruiser, perfectly suited for the day's run.  Mine is nicely mixed in between and more than adequate to propel this 72 year old grand pa in exciting fashion.

Mostly we rode in staggered formation with Brian in the lead and me hanging on to the group.  Dane's youthful exuberance was often noticeable in between--and sometimes in the lead--when he would power through a sweeping curve with his foot pegs reaching to make sparks on the roadway.

Below Brinkhaven we turned north on something akin to a buggy trail and I shivered my way through several miles of graveled surface more suited to a Moto-cross event.

At the campground we joined a crowd of parents in pick-up-the-kid(s)-at-camp mode.  Our biggest treat was a short hike to a pavilion where the campers and counselors were enjoying a medley of rousing music as they said their good-byes in a formation of robust bodily rhythms.

Soon a young man approached Brian and Kate and they exchanged greetings of old familiarity.  Turns out he is now a youth minister and doing great things at someone's church.  It also turned out, he informed us, Brittany had left.

That's us below in his photo of us mimicking our chagrin at the news.

The ride home was a mirror image of our arrival except Brian and Kate split off for lunch at Loudonville while I chased Dane through the Mohican forest area then stopped for my lunch at the Butler custard stand as Dane disappeared around the town's big curve.

I munched my sloppy joe while the adrenaline high of the morning's ride slowly drained away; marveling continuously at how good life really is treating me.