Yesterday there was finally enough road dry to make it worth the time of hauling the bikes out from Westby. They were still in storage since I somehow didn't find it worth my time to drag bicycles out during the 4 month snow storm we just had. While we were in there we picked up Tiggy and her bike since she is SO whiny if she doesn't get to visit every few days.
It was getting on towards sundown by the time we started out and the weather, which had been a balmy 50+ degrees the day before, was considerably cooler and windier. It still held enough of the promise of spring for me to wear the first shows-some-leg trousers of the season, a pair of capri sweats I got for gardening. And two sweatshirts because I'm not crazy.
The girls dragged behind and didn't see when I took a side jaunt onto a field road. They passed by, singing at the top of their lungs, and never heard me call them. And call them. I finally gave up and went back to the house, got the van, and found them headed into Westby because, "we thought you must have ridden your bike that direction." Are you kidding? I was tired before I left the driveway! They couldn't figure out how I got behind them without them seeing me.
Finley had a wonderful time. He had all his favorite activities---running along while I ride my bike, swimming, chasing birds, getting dirty---combined into one event of supreme euphoria. He was somewhat frousled by the time we went home. He thinks nothing of galloping across floating snow and plunging into the waters beneath; it's all part of the fun for him. He was so full of burrs he looked like he had his ears up in curlers. Someone's sleeping on the couch if he does that too many more times! For anyone who wonders what anyone could possibly see in such desolate, empty country, here is a photographic sampling of a prairie bike ride during thaw.
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