We’re sitting in the living room after supper.

I’m reading – Are You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret – can’t believe I’ve never read this before! Bill’s on his cell phone, checking the stats for The Open (they don’t like you calling it the British Open!), when suddenly my husband breaks the comfortable silence.

“Let’s go ride our bikes.”

After an eager and enthusiastic start a few years ago – all tricked out with the latest gadgets and gear – bicycling was relegated to the west wall of the garage where Bill’s Trek and my Townie Electra have hung upright the past three years.

Bill checked the bikes over, making sure the tires were all properly inflated and then, per my hesitation, we simply rode around the cul-de-sac / loop where we live.

And it was GLORIOUS.

I was transported to sensations of freedom and youth and experience and wondered why in the heck I’d let this joyous act of riding my bike pass me by.

Well, no more. The batteries on our odometers need to be replaced and Bill will have to install the bike rack so we can transport our wonder machines to any number of delightful trailheads in the area and then – then! – the splendid exhilaration of new vistas, the heady rush of wind in our faces, tunneled bike trails, glimpses of nature and wildflowers, deer sightings, blue birds, etc., etc., etc.! Even those tired muscles, sure to resurface after such an extended absence, won’t be without some small measure of satisfaction.

More to come, my friends. More. To. Come. 🙂