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We proudly went where we had never gone before.

Yesterday, we took a bike ride 9.1 miles to the nearby Palmer Mall. Our family of four rode on 6 wheels all the way. Conor walked up one hill. I kept him company.

I honestly cannot remember the last time I was inside a shopping mall. I honestly cannot be more thrilled to say that.

We took bike paths almost the entire trip. This was slightly out of the way but a much nicer trip. Save for a Big Hill.

The hill that wouldn’t end.

Relative shot of the big hill.

I think the pictures fall far short of conveying the enormity of this hill. And this is not the hill we walked. I don’t have a picture of that one.

The pavement was a little wet from rain and there were sticks and leaves strewn about. We had to take it slowly coming back down on our way home.

Plus we had to stop and move barricades.

We rode through some busted up foliage.

Must have been windy…

Those who know me well know I loathe bridges and heights. My belly gets all topsy-turvy and I get the heebie jeebies and I have dreadful visions of the 1940 Tacoma Narrows Bridge fiasco.

Well, I got a lovely surprise as we came around a curve on the bike path. I suppose, had I thought about it, I would have expected to cross Route 22 on a bridge.

I hate bridges.

View from the footbridge.

I swear I could feel the traffic moving below me.

Before the foot bridge, before the broken tree, before the
Big A** Hill… was this:

The pole that got me.

Every crossway of the bike path had a pole like this one bisecting the path. Right here, I was riding too closely to Conor to properly see the angle at which I actually needed to be to cut this turn.

I got the pole pretty good too.

The horn of my handlebar caught the pole as I went by, and by I did not go. Down I went. Swiftly. But it’s moments like these when time stops. I saw it coming. I knew I was going to drop. I watched the whole thing happen. I tucked, rolled, and walked away with nary a scrape. Frightened family members, yes. A slightly pulled hamstring, yes. But it was fun. I know, masochistic. Don’t judge. I’ve been waiting for a fall. This is the first time I’ve fallen from my bicycle in I-can’t-even-begin-to-imagine-how-many years.

I didn’t come away with a scratch, but my bike did. I do have one bruise while my bike has zero dents. I’d say we’re par for the course.

My bike got striped.

All in all, it was a seriously awesome bike ride.

We made the trip specifically to get new cell phones. My phone was dead and would not charge. Half of Josh’s keys hadn’t been working for weeks. It was time to do something about it.

It was about supper time as we were leaving and there was no way we’d get home happy without consuming calories to burn.

The spoils of our adventure.

My phone is the purple one, obviously.

Subway does a mean chef’s salad on bread (turkey, cheese and loaded with veggies).

We all rode terrain we’d never ridden before. We rode farther as a family than we’d ever ridden before. Judah didn’t fall asleep once AND was completely well behaved at the mall. We accomplished our phone procurement goals.

We arrived home very happy.

As we rode along the trail to the mall, I asked Josh, “Have I ever thanked you for having me sell the car?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he replied.

“Thank you,” I said. Conor asked why I was thanking him. I told him that we would not be living life the way we live it if we still had a car.

“And we wouldn’t have as much fun!” said Conor.

Indeed, he is so very, very right.

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