yeah. boo - yah baby.

boo yah baby. the high for the day was 54 Fahrenheit, not counting a stiff wind off the water. it was down to 42 Fahrenheit by the time we got back to my place, again not counting the stiff breeze, six hours later (three and a half solid pedaling, two and a half split between a pastry shop and Becca's house). it rained the entire time. our breath made fog, our tires made spray, our heroism made family history. we bicycled 31 miles in all, northeast to pick up the Amherst Conservation trail, west and north along the Erie Canal to the Niagara River, south along the waterfront downtown to the the pier, east through a new trail along the Scajaquada/Hoyt Lake/Delaware Park, up the final stretch of Hertel.

by the power of Gore-Tex, Under-Armor and courage bordering on the foolhardy, compelled by a strange notion to do something completely nonsensical in a name of stiff upper lips and manly determination and the bold tradition of "because it's there!", we lived the day laughing at the silly mortals cowering in their four-wheeled boxes.

they hide from glory that shun mother nature's wild embrace.

then we drank hot chocolate and took warm showers and did inherently manly bike maintenance and ate mom's homemade cinnamon rolls.

what can i say--my dad's cool. i'm cooking up an even doozier ride for next time...