Sunday, July 10, 2016

Get me to the church on time



Saturday morning dawned into another beautiful day.  We were getting up early to ride our bikes on the KATY trail.  The KATY trail is a railroad track that has been converted into the top multi-use (hiking and biking) trail in America.  While in college I took a week to participate in a bike ride essentially across Missouri on all 250 miles of the KATY trail.  I fell in love and knew I would return and so I finally did.  One of the big benefits to our campgrounds is that it is less than a quarter mile off the KATY trail making it very accessible (except that quarter mile is up a sizeable hill).  Since it is an old railroad bed there are small towns about every 8-10 miles that sprung up because of the railroad and now serve as trail heads to bikers as opportunities to stop and eat, fix a bike, or spend the night.  Some of these small towns have really thrived because of the trail tourists.  

Our route that morning started following the base of the limestone river bluffs along the Missouri River.  It then opened up into the river bottom farm ground with fields of tall corn and beans.  Here and there on the hillsides would be wineries since it is also home to the heart of Missouri’s wine country.  Along with experiencing the changing landscape there was quite a bit of wildlife.  A lot of birds darting across the trail.  We saw a muskrat at one of the small creek crossings.  I about rode my bike off the trail watching a turkey vulture flying circles—bird watching and biking don’t mix well.  Arthur about wiped out when a long black snake startled him on the trail.  

At each trail head there is historical information about the town, what points of interest are along the trail before the next stop, and information about what’s going on in the community such as events, restaurants, etc.  Trail heads also usually include a bathroom and some even had tools for basic bike repair.  The trail heads were a great place to chat with some of the others out on the trail.  We met a group of ladies from Kansas who come out for a ladies weekend every year to ride.  Another guy was planning to ride about 100 miles that day.  There were people who had lots of gear and were planning on doing several days and those dressed to go 5 miles on the trail.  One of the towns was hosting a poker ride that morning so cyclists road to different locations picking up cards to see who has the “best hand” at the end.  We easily saw a hundred people out on their bikes during our ride.  

We rode about 40 miles and were on a little bit of a time crunch to be back for the wedding.  We were having a blast the first 20 miles, a good time for the next 10, and for the last 10 our feelings went from “This was fun but I have had enough” to “I can’t stand being on this bike another second”.  With biking there is always some butt soreness and after a certain amount of time the feet and hands might get numb and tingly.  As we turned the corner of the trail and up the hill to camp it became evident that our tanks were empty.

The next stage was transforming from people clothed in spandex bike shorts to those in wedding attire all while at a campground.  I might have gotten a few looks as I was standing in the bath house curling my hair in a dress instead of shorts and a t-shirt like normal camper attire.  We also had to break camp and get everything loaded in the car.  We were cutting it pretty close so we decided to get a few burgers for lunch and Arthur changed at the restaurant.  He comes out to our table looking very nice in his shirt and tie until I see that he is wearing his green running shoes with neon yellow laces (when he first bought these shoes it was discussed that these shouldn’t ever be worn in public because they are hideous colors.)  My heart sank as I realize that his dress shoes are in the trunk of our car which is inaccessible because we have loaded the bike rack on the trunk. There wasn’t time to get the shoes and we didn’t even have to time sit and eat so we are trying to eat fast food burgers driving down the interstate and not drip any on our clothing-- oh the risks that we take.  As we make the turn off to the church (10 minutes till “kick-off”) the road we were planning on taking is close so we go down to find the next main street to loop around.  Which is closed.  It is now 8 minutes till and we have no idea how to get to the frontage road to get to the church.  Our St. Louis map doesn’t have detailed roads in this portion of town.  In desperation I call my dad to have him look at Google maps for directions.  As it turns out according to Google there is only one way to this church on the road we can’t find the turn.  We back track enough and find out that you have to take the on ramp to the interstate to get to the frontage road.  We pull into the parking lot with 5 minutes to go.  Between fatigue from the bike ride, lack of sleep from camping, being short on time, having the wrong shoes,  being hungry, and getting lost—tension may have been a little high between Arthur and myself.  And then we sat through a wedding and were reminded how insignificant these little things (even the fashion faux pas of neon shoes) in light of the marvelous opportunity to spend life together with each other.  

The groom was one of Arthur’s fraternity brothers and it was special to share in their special day.  The reception was later in the afternoon so I had a chance to take a nap and Arthur was able to change his shoes and all was right with the world.  The reception was a great time of catching up with other FarmHouse couples.  Arthur’s favorite part was discussing theology with one of the guys who is in seminary.  Occasionally I was able to steal my husband away from theology for a slow dance or two on the dance floor.  After the wedding several of the guys got together to play Settlers of Cataan into the night.

As I was retelling this story to patients who asked about my vacation the common response was, "What were you thinking trying to bike and get to a wedding?"  In retrospect we probably were trying to fit too much into one day but when on vacation-- Carpe Diem.  Omnia Vincit Amor.  (That's a lot of Latin in a row so here is the translation:  Sieze the day.  Love conquers all.)

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