Sometimes I have a hard time dealing with one of my best friend’s death this summer. So, I may write about it from time to time. Bear with me.
I remember the bicycle rides the most. Riding all over DuPont, especially that old railtrail. You showed me where the berries where and told me to watch out for the buck. I loved exploring further each time.
You also introduced me to the reservoir. I can’t tell you how many times I think about those rides. Even though you were old enough to be my mom, you always acted so young. And you had the bruises to prove it! There’s that one little downhill with the bump by the airport that was to be the battleground. To get down the hill without a crash and even more to get back up the other side. I know that’s what we chatted about before you left this world.
The weekend urban rides to go pig out at Wendy’s and not get smashed by a car trying to get across Spy Run. When I blew out my tire and bent my rim, you rode back to get the truck and damned near got hit along the way.
Or even the night rides in town. With the other food stop, Coney Island, by the bank. We’d all pound down the hotdogs and fries until we where almost sick. And then ride some more. I will always have those memories. Thank you for them.
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