Yesterday was beautiful—one of those gorgeous, sunny, fall days. Perfect for a bike ride! We decided to take Lucy mountain biking since it had been a couple of weeks since she'd had the opportunity.
There is a place close by that we visit frequently when time is limited. Although we expected crowds, we had the trails to ourselves. The trails are great, convoluted, ever-changing. It seems every time we go, we find a new route or two. Even though the area isn't new to us, there are so many trails, that getting lost is part of the ride. Yesterday was no different although this time we had Lucy with us.
We had ridden with her 6 miles on vacation, so I was thinking that was a good length to do again. It's been about15 months since her back surgery and she's strong, but older and I didn't want to push her abilities. However, in our exploration of some new trails we found, our directional sensibilities got turned around. Ha! Our direction? I can't enter those woods without getting totally confused! In this case, my husband must take the full blame. (In his defense, he always gets us out, no matter where we go.)
So what would have maybe been 6 miles, ended up a third longer. Plus, the riding was more difficult. After 3 weeks of biking in a dry environment, it was startling to be back in the wet, slippery Northwest. I had to concentrate more on the actual riding so that the slippery roots and slick mud didn't throw me. There wasn't anything we could do when we realized we were lost, but keep riding. Three additional miles, doesn't sound like much, but mountain biking can be a full body workout. Sitting here this morning writing this, I can feel those parts I worked!
When we finally made it back to the van, we were all pooped. Happy, but pooped. Lucy got in (with some help) and conked out. She didn't budge until we pulled into the driveway. I can tell today will be a 'slow' day for her.
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