Terrie Cole called on her way to work this morning and asked if I'd like to take a bike ride after work; that I should call Mark Longden, and the three of us would go out. Sounded like a great idea, so promptly at 6:20 pm I left the house. On the way, I saw a new neighbor walking down the street towards the bus stop. Knowing that the bus comes once an hour, at 6:15, I knew that she had missed it, so I offered her a ride. She was going downtown, which was several miles out of my way. It was a good feeling to be helping her, so I didn't mind and called Terrie to tell her I wouldn't be there till 7:00pm. The neighbor was dressed in jeans, a long shirt dripping below her coat, dangling earrings, and a black braided hat covering wild blond hair. She told me the story of her life, her divorce, her custody battle for her 16yr old son with her northern Irish husband, and other tales of melancholy and woe. By the time we got the the bus station, her story had her in tears, and I was questioning my sanity, too. Lovely lady, lost, pathetic, and alone. But I had great friends waiting, so sped directly on south.
Mark and Terrie were ready, so by 7:30 we took off down the Chester Creek trail into town. The whole way we bantered, teasing each other like children with slight sexy stories, locker-room humor, and gossip, interspersed with plans for the summer and fall of trips up mountains, down rivers, and "the future." The Future, as we see it is pretty vague. Terrie wants to got to Colorado for the fall, then come back mid-winter for the great ice climbing in Alaska. It would be great to have her in Colorado, then I'd have a climbing partner for the fall when I come to Ouray to climb and ski. The Future for me is tomorrow; I haven't thought much further than that for the past couple of years after the divorce. We rely on Terrie to make adequate plans.
By the time we arrived at Westchester Lagoon, we were starving, and to our rescue came Dani Evinson, my climbing partner, dinner date, and all around great friend, riding her mountain bike in the opposite direction...home. Food became paramount, so we rode the mile and a half to Dani's house, chained the bikes in a gob, and hustled to the Bear Tooth for hamburgers and quaffs of beer. More waterlogged than drunk, we teetered back to the car, to the house, to the bikes, and rode home. Now it was 11:30, a late hour for the three of them, being gainfully employed. But for me it was a great night!
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1 comment:
sigh...I can't wait to be retired and ride around with a belly full of beer late at night with no worries about getting up in the morning!
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