Soon, soon, soon...I'll be one with my little red racer again.
I'm still slightly miffed that my easy path to the Greenway--my J-Mill-I-Water-H-Kelly zigzag--turned into my less-interesting and sometimes frenetic shot up 5th to D once we moved, but it's certainly better than trying to shoot the gauntlet across Pioneer at Q to the path at Mill. What a noisy hassle, that one.
My winter legs need thinning and my winter face needs wind in it again, with the smell of the woods along Pre's Trail and the sight of the rapids at my left. My boys need the exercise, too, though I hardly expect the wee-legged one to do much pedaling, the trailer's far more suited to his imperialist ideas about his mobility and mommy's servitude to it.
I can't wait for my fuel frenzied motorcycle days to fire up, but there's little in my world as purely satisfying to my soul as being wrung out by my bicycle in the spring and summer. Soon, soon, soon, little red racer.
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