I try to take my bicycle everywhere I go. Though I am not allowed to take it on the Metro during rush hour (no bike-cars in DC), I take it on the bus so I can ride for half a mile to Matt’s house while he walks beside me.
I’m in Williamsburg, VA for the weekend showing my brother the colonial town. I rode my bike around while Matt and Paul did the casual tour. There is something freeing about riding a bike, even at walking speeds. It gives my entire body something to do, it keeps my feet from slapping the ground, and if the conversation lags or the weather gets opressively hot, a few pushes and I am cruising ahead.
It also gives foot-weary brothers something to distract them at the end of a long day.
“The family. We were a strange little band of characters trudging through life sharing diseases and toothpaste, coveting one another’s desserts, hiding shampoo, borrowing money, locking each other out of our rooms, inflicting pain and kissing to heal it in the same instant, loving, laughing, defending, and trying to figure out the common thread that bound us all together.”–Erma Bombeck