|The riders are gathering|
On one tour, a lady passed me before the first rest stop and said hello on her way by. When, because of the helmet and sunglasses, I didn't recognize her, she said "Remember me? I'm the nurse that helped you with your recent surgery and you lent me the Lance Armstrong cycling book!"
Or the marshall who wanted to know my age and seemed disappointed that I was only 56 years of age - he must have thought I looked much older. A couple of tours ago, we played leapfrog with a dude who when he would pass us yet again, would say "On Your Lay-eft!".
Just before the first rest stop (which we skipped), I decided to take my left hand off the handlebars and reach up to the sky to relieve numbness in my hand the way I'd seen my cycling friend Roy do on many occasions. My daughter Jackie and I were riding side by side (a no no) and it was at that point that she decided to raise her right hand. I looked out of the corner of my eye and wondered if for some reason she wanted a high five? Our small fingers interlocked and just at that point, an older dude with ginger hair and a monstrous gut passed us and shouted "Get A Room!".
|Last minute tune-up|
Many miles down the road, Jackie and I were still laughing about Mr. Ginger's comment when our hands had touched and I could imagine his surprise if we had told him then that in fact we did have a room - booked way back in January. The fact that we are a father/daughter team might then have dawned on him if he had looked a little more closely and noticed the family resemblance.
|A cool and windy start|