“I’m taking a walk with my morning cup of coffee over to the beaver marsh if you want to join me,” Kathy’s text alerted me.
It was Friday morning and I had the day off because I’d worked on Good Friday the previous week when the farm was closed to complete a couple of projects. I’d let her know I was off to see if she wanted to ride at some point during the day.
‘Sure. Stop by on your way and pick me up,’ I responded.
And again…that glimpse into what my retirement days could look like. Granted – I’ll do more than just walk to the beaver marsh and ride my bike, but the spontaneity of the morning has such great appeal. We walked there and then sat on the railings overlooking the marsh on a cold, clear morning. There were other old people like me on the path, too, which wasn’t too surprising.
The reminder of where I now live wasn’t lost on me, either. I love that I can walk out my door, pick up the 130+-mile towpath, and walk to a marshy habitat like the Beaver Marsh is really something special. After a long talk about life’s changes and how they were affecting both of our futures, we headed back home. I completed two projects in the house over the next several hours before suiting up for our bike ride. I checked the temperature because it was one of those borderline days for clothing at 49 degrees. I opted for an extra layer on my upper body, but decided against the riding tights.
Kathy had to stop at Century Cycle to have an adjustment done to her bike and was planning on meeting me at the parking lot for the paved bike/hike trail at the top of SR303 in Hudson. I rode the four miles there and arrived just as she was pulling her bike from the car. If it was 49 degrees in the valley, my body told me it was either dropping everywhere or much colder on top of the ridge. In any event, my feet were starting to get cold and I switched from riding gloves to my insulated riding mittens which I’d been carrying in the back compartment/pockets of my riding shirt.
It was now windy and overcast. Rain was in the forecast for the evening, but that was still several hours away. We headed north on the paved trail, aiming for the Bedford Reservation – 10 miles away according to the trail map at the trailhead. Thirty minutes into the ride, Kathy, looking at the odometer on her bike, said, “we’ve gone 13 miles already.”
“Impossible,” I replied.
“It says so right here on my bike,” she said pointing to the on-board biking computer while we waited to get across an intersection.
“Kathy – we’ve been riding for thirty minutes. That would mean we’ve been going 26 mph for that time and I can assure you we haven’t been riding nearly that fast. In fact, we can’t ride that fast,” I concluded.
“Well – it says we’ve gone 13 miles and yup, we’ve been averaging 26 mph. I’m going with that,” she said with a twinkle in her eye. I knew she was baiting me and took it.
“Lance could barely ride that fast when he was on EPO and we’re not Lance! Besides, the trail we’re on is 10 miles to the turn-around…and we aren’t at the turn-around…so how could we possibly have gone 13 miles?” I sputtered.
I was losing and it was fruitless because she had the evidence on her bike. We rode on and hit the turn-around in around 48 minutes. It was definitely getting colder. The return trip was a gradual uphill and somewhat more into the wind. Kathy had not done too many rides to this point – in fact only her second of the New Year – and was tiring as we closed in on the parking lot. Once there, she loaded her car into her vehicle and headed off while I continued the trek home. Unfortunately, I was now moving west and into the teeth of the wind just as the rain/ice began to fall. The next half hour found me with frozen toes and legs turning a purplish-blue. When I finally arrived at more door and checked the temperature, it had dropped to 36 degrees.
‘No wonder I’m freezing my butt off,’ I mumbled. I had ridden 36 miles though. My longest in a very long time.
Bike Ride: Three hours
Training Heart Rate: 120-135 bpm.
Calories Burned: 2000
Bonus: 27,000 steps.
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