It was the last night before free nights become a rare treat. The world is my oyster, what do I do? Out on the town for drinks? Party?
Sorta. I rally the dog and the pugsley and a whole bunch of lights and head out to explore from the house. The night was warm (30ish whole degrees) and snow was lightly falling all around, but the VAST trail was firm and fast. Seamus and I covered a lot of ground quickly and found ourselves on trail that we hadn’t gotten to yet. Everything dark and quiet, exploring the forest, pedaling and pushing up and up and up. That moment you realize that you’re simply enjoying the ride and not negotiating with all the demons in your head for each turn of the cranks. That you’re doing okay.
Only problem was, with the excitement of the dog and the somewhat tricky nature of getting to the trailhead with him by bike, I left the house without my water. I had vodka. And peanut butter sandwich. But no water. Cue cutting the ride an hour shorter than planned. But who cares. Two solid hours pushing 38 lbs of pugsley in the woods was absolutely the Friday night that I needed.
The next day I hopped a plane back to Colorado. Exploring, testing the waters, soaking up some sunshine. Things are aligning and the universe seems to be in agreement with the plan. Tuesday the boy and I flew back east, exhausted.
He slept most of the trip and then slept hard all night. I was feeling it as well. Filled with optimism and hope and fear and anxiety. Thus begins several months of solo parenting and the next stage of this adventure.