date: Sun 15 Aug 2026 05:00:46 PM PDT subj: a ride for charity ------------------------------------------------- The yearly Toure de Whidbey ride today. My wife signs me up for the toure since we've moved to the island. I miss the day I would train to ride one hundred miles in a day. Although I would come home exhausted and sometimes depressed some days for lack of calories, the single task of peddling down the road for hours releases the monotony of work. This year we decided to do the ride as a family. We had high hopes when we signed up, but the night before I felt the likely hood of my babes wanting to sit in their trailer five hours while I pull them up hills on the course, was low, and wouldn't be fun for them. So we decided to relax a bit, do a whatever, wake up as normal, have breakfast and do the chill ride. Loading up the kids in the trailer is never fun, but my wife was up for the saintly task of PPEing our babes with their helmets. They do not like PPE of any kind, they to tolerate the car seat, so as soon as the helmets go on the cries come out. These cries cause us to suddenly feel like a new driver at a complex traffic left turn with a pushy driver right behind you honking their horn. You don't need to rush, shouldn't rush, but somehow these little people get you to rush anyway. When the rushing starts so does the forgetting stuff. So I have to go back use the restroom again, and pick up a few items I forgot about. As my wife and I hook the trailer to my Surley Wednesday, our daughter is crying the entire time. This is why we are not riding thirty six miles, half of which are up hill. Hooked up I moved the bike with the trailer and the cries stopped. We get the kids in the trailer, and our daughter isn't happy. I strap my ham radio to the top of the trailer just in case I have a problem. I know the local ham club is working support communications for the event, so if we had an issue I can call out to them, and likely get some help faster than if we were just on the road. Usually any cyclist seeing another cyclist on the road they ask if everything is alright as they pass, but depending where you are in the group, that could be a long while. So the radio strapped on the trailer our daughter crying, then suddenly the radio receives a transmission. Our daughter hears the voices of the HAMs talking. She stops crying and listens to transmissions. The HAMs chatter about the event enchanted my daughter, her crying stopped, and I started moving the bike and trailer. As I ride down the road I realize I forgot the tripod so we can take a picture. My wife says she will go back for it, and catch up. I slowly peddled down to road to check in, while frequently looking in my helmet mirror for my wife to speed up behind me. --- Riding a bike at all, if not to the store and back, is a strange thing to do. To me the bicycle is the best vehicle there is, then the motorcycle, then some form of heavy machinery that is nuclear powered can withstand any situation safely carriaging the driver, passengers, and cargo to and fro. In a car centric country the cyclist's utopia is only for a select few. The strangeness of the regular unassisted traditional bicycle is that when you ride it past five miles, there is a level of pain that will start, and without endurance to pain, the entire process is not FUN. I don't know what it is other than some fantasy feeling of a smidgen of freedom. Paying to ride a bike around in a toure is also as strange as paying to run long or short distances. The cost of the snacks at each rest stop (1 in our case.) in a sane world are far less than the cost of the registration to ride. There is the idea you might get to ride near others, and then see them at the rest stop. I like seeing everyone gathered in there cycling outfits, and interesting bicycles of all sorts. I love wondering where they found them, and some new, some old. The people are also just as interesting as the bikes. Being there not knowing anyone but the local bike shop owner, and my wife and kids, and an acquaintance to the mountain bike club president, I'm pretty content, ... possible happy. Doing something with my wife has that effect. --- We get some pictures then line up for the start. We are near the back due to our trailer. I guess we think we are going to slow others down. The music starts and off we ride. Kids in the back looking around at the people, bicycles, and action. A left, a sharp right, straight down the road to the stop sign, a left, then out to the country. My wife on the left of me with her watchful eyes on six, and three :) She makes sure all of us are doing ok, calling out to approaching cars, or any possible dangers she sees for us. I peddle peddle peddle my heavy bike, with a heavy load. I'm not used to the extra weight, but my body and mind is used to a specific pace going along the road. My lunch time rides usually on a portion of the route. So I peddle on, and my wife to the left tells me "Its a relaxing ride. No need to hurt yourself." Winded I try to mutter something back to her "I'm just going my normal cadence." As a family we weave to the left and pass all the riders. In the front of the pack I look back for the other riders. I can't believe I don't seen any. My wife calls out "left turn!" I cross the road to the left not wanting to believe this is our route, my mind is used to going straight. I expect us to ride passed Fort Casey heading to Admirals Cove stopping at the Break Station on the right side of the road. None of my rides have ever had a Break Station on the opposite side of the road the route is heading on. I look back as my speed starts to drop off, I see a few riders made the turn. I still wonder are we on route? I ask my wife, "Are you sure about the turn?" She confirms "Yes!" Her garmin has us going the correct way. I can't believe there are only a few riders behind us. As the grade starts to increase and my speed drops off, I tell my wife riding next to me. "Here is where I start to slow down." She confirms "I know. Remember we are on the chill route." I tell her "I know, but its my duty to not let anyone pass me." The duty of all cyclist is to catch any rider you see, and prevent any rider from passing you. Where I live all the riders I catch are at or near 70 years old, and all the riders that pass me are 20 years my junior. My wife reminds me, "Don't kill yourself." Noticing my legs muscles are not pushing as much as they could I press harder on the peddles, and attempt to keep those riders from catching us. With the riders in my mirror getting smaller, and the grade going in the negative, my wife and I speed on turning towards Admirals Cove, with the majestic view in our front and the wet land on our right, we peddle off and are the first of the chill group to get to the break station. We are welcomed with cheers from the volunteers. The warm welcome from the Break Station is always nice. I guess that is worth the cost. My wife helps gathering snacks from the station. I ask for bananas for the kids, and pickle juice and an hard boiled egg for myself. I remain back with the kids holding up the bike. My wife is the best. She returns with the goodies we like, and some extra things she news I love, but rarely eat these days, chocolate covered coffee beans. A photographer is excited to take photos of our babes in the trailer. Our daughter is asleep her head hunched forward. Our son hardly awake. Its their natural nap time. The ride has put them to sleep. We spend some time at the break station relaxing and gather snacks. My plan is to divert from the route (I ride this path all the dang time) and go to Fort Casey, to let the kids out and play and eat bananas in the grass. Then after awhile ride back to the finish, in time for some pizza. As we discuss this, the kids wake up, and mom checks on the babes. More riders arrive, one of them comments on my bike, "I thought that bike had a motor." I jokingly say "I does." The photographer, and the rider's express wonder. "You are looking at him. ... I am the engine." I say. "You ride pretty fast pulling a trailer like that." I tell the rider. "I ride all the time." I try to ride a few times a week. The photographer points his camera right at my face. He shows me the picture, then shows the rider. He has captures me reflecting back into the lens of his camera through my sun glasses. The rider and the photographer start a conversation about photography. My wife and i listen, and enjoy the ambiance. Throughout the interaction the photographer gets a picture of my wife, our babes, and myself. Will we be in the local town's paper? Probably not, but it was fun getting some attention for while. We see another family with a trailer pulling their child. I inspect their setup. They have a single seat Burly and the dad pulling their two year old child, has some additional frame attached to his bike that looks like its for a seat. I watch them talk with other riders, then ride off with well wishes from the Break Station and other riders. We decide its time to continue on, my mind says just a bit down the road then up the hill to the fort. We ride with the wet land on our right, and the sound (ocean) on our left. As we ride, we see the ferry coming in. My wife says "The ferry looks like its going too fast." I see what she is talking about "It does." As we watch it seems like its going to crash the dock. Just an illusion of perspective from where we are, as we approach. We pass through the loading area towards the camp over the gravel, then a sharp right up the back side to the fort. A nice short climb I stand on the peddles. I'm wondering if I could have actually road the 36 mile route as I put my weight down on the peddles. This little hill is about 14 times shorter than the hills I would have had to ride the other route. Up we go, and into the fort. We find a nice spot to park lean the bike up against the sign and unload the babes. They get out for awhile and we all enjoy the grass. Mom feeds the babes bananas, and the local park ambassador visits us. She tells us the Whidbey Kit Club is here every third Saturday of the month. We see a huge kite off in the distance. The weather is just right a bit of sun and a light breeze. Its good to be here. I'm not thinking of chores or anything else but what is happening here with my family. Later a little boy named Albert visits us, and has a fun time interacting with our sun. Mom holding our daughter, as she watches the boy dance, our son tries to dance like him, the sever and a half Albert is the nicest boy. He is so happy to have a small friend for the moment. He tries to teach our son how to walk "normal" ha ha. The most abnormal way of walking in my mind, Albert insists is the correct way to walk. He exaggerates a hill toe walk perfectly back and forth in front of us to see. Our son walks off in the same direction and Albert is over joyed that our son learned from his expert teaching. It was great seeing the cute boy, so happy having an understudy. Our boy danced and touched the signs like Albert, until he was too tired to walk any more. He started crawling around. That was our signal time to ride on as it was getting close to nap time. We had been there over an hour. Time to load up and ride out. The second part of the ride had no riders to keep up with. In my mirror I see a rider approaching. I try to peddle harder, but the wind in my face, and a slight grade, my speed is half what it was heading to the Break Station. I realize I must have had a tail wind. My wife and I see a father and child up ahead riding. The Boy has a spike atop his helmet. As I peddle looking back I realize there is no preventing the rider form passing me. I watch him pass, give him a wave, and see him speed off ahead. I wave at a few riders going the opposite direction. My wife and I ride on, and turn back to where we started from for the finish. We eventually ride into the finish with a warm welcome from some cheerleaders. It was a nice welcome. We get a picture at the finish from a volunteer and then ride to get some pizza before the finial push home. My wife gets us some pizza. We each have a slice of peperoni with some clear water to wash it down. She sees a nice shirt with bright yellow in the discount bin, perfect for her morning rides to work she will stick out, and work requires bright yellow attire for cyclist. With our babes asleep we finish another couple slices of pizza. More riders pull in from the 36 and 50 mile ride. We head home, and I wave to all the riders in the opposite direction. We were not sure we were going to actually ride. Not knowing how the kids would like the trailer. I wasn't feeling that motivated to pull extra weight. My wife tired from so much work and commute, and just every weekend for what seems like months, have been full over activity or obligation. As usual once I start peddling ... I just keep peddling, I feel a bit better. I really had a nice time with my wife. She is the best riding partner. Always making sure we are all safe, and enjoying ourselves. ------------- Now my daughter is saying "aidio" and every time she sees my little handy talkie, she is super excited. If it picks up a transmission, and lights up, she is enthralled by it.