Two years ago-quite-today, the Tour de Taste conquered us. An exhausted Rory either, at mile 19 of a 20 mile ride, fell asleep on the trailer bike and fell off or threw herself off the trailer bike in a fury at being forced to continue riding (back to the car) when she really wanted to be napping. Sam, riding after Rob to bring him back to where Rory and I were, went over his handlebars. There was blood and gore.
Today, there were no trailer bikes. There was no exhaustion. There was no blood nor gore. There were only 6 miles (we took it very easy) with five, count em, FIVE food stops and happy children, although there were a few complaints about the extremely hard hills that we did not tell them about (possibly because they aren’t extremely hard unless you are only three feet tall).
And I looked around at the other families, biking along, mostly with trailer bikes or baby bike seats or even bike trailers with all their little ones, and I thought “sux to be you! Mwahahhahhhaaaa!”