Although the crepe blog declares me (Dave) as the author, I didn't write it. Cerissa was just logged in under my account for some reason. She asked me to write a guest-post on her blog today though, so this is genuinely composed by cerissanne's husband, the crepe-maker. I hope you enjoy the writing of someone who knows the difference between your and you're.
***
First, some background information:
- Cerissa and I try to go on 1-on-1 kid "dates" with our oldest two as much as possible. Currently Bethy doesn't get in on the fun, but it still takes four separate occasions to work through the rotation of James+Dad, James+Mom, Clara+Dad and Clara+Mom dates.
- James learned to ride his bike without training wheels on Father's Day of this year. He's been going full speed ever since.
- As much as I enjoy having small children, I often dream about how much fun it will be when they're all old enough to be portable, mobile and active. I picture us taking family backpacking trips, mountain biking together, and all sorts of other adventurous endeavors. I've typically imagined that we are a long way off from those types of outings.
After accompanying me to cross country practice at Ft. Custer the other day, James had become curious about the mountain biking trails and what it would be like to ride his bike on them. Today was my turn to hang out with James (note: the other three combinations are called dates--since a female is involved; James and I simply "hang out"), so we decided to give mountain biking a try. I'm pretty familiar with the trails at Ft. Custer, and figured we could do an easy mile or two on the wider, straighter, flatter portions (blue or yellow loops anyone)?
However, at the trailhead, James really wanted to do the red loop--the longest (8.6 mile), most technical loop they offer. I tried explaining to him what it would be like, but he wouldn't back down. I decided we could check out the beginning, then turn around or cut over to an easier trail once he realized how tricky it was. I will never doubt my son's biking abilities again. He absolutely crushed it, conquering the first portion of this trail like he was born to ride it. I could barely keep up with him--or his laughter and hoots of pure joy--as he cruised through "the trenches"--up embankments, over logs, swerving through sand and barely stopping to catch his breath.
Although I soon realized his balance was impeccable and his fear was nonexistent, I did start worrying about his stamina. At a couple of intersections, I kept trying to convince him to cut back over to the main trail and head back to the car, but he pressed on. Sure there were quite a few hills his little legs couldn't muster up the strength to climb, and he did fall off a few times, but there were no wipeouts or crashes, no whining or crying, just pure joy and a manly sense of adventure.
We skipped two sections, but plowed through the "Amusement Park" (a particularly challenging section) without incident. He flew downhills, off edges, and intentionally through every puddle he could find. We passed a couple of struggling adults who looked at me like I was crazy for bringing such a small kid out there on his Lightning McQueen bike. I couldn't contain my pride or my joy as we finished what I estimate to be a 7 mile ride through a technical mountain biking trail.
I can't begin to explain how good that ride was for both of our souls. Just the two of us guys, out in the woods doing manly things, me beaming with pride and him soaking up the challenge. It was a moment I think I'd dreamed of having someday, but had always figured we were several years off. Today I'm seeing the beginning of something special, and look forward to all the trails we've yet to explore together.
.JPG)
