Hiawatha!

Dear Laney,

Today, we drove over to the Hiawatha Trail for a bike ride.

According to your grandfather, this is how it went:

It was 32 miles of continuous uphill through two states. The road was a gravel blend that made biking in it feel like we were trying to power our wheels through sand. Throughout the day, the ominous grey skies above threatened to unleash their snowy fury. At one point, your grandfather disappeared into a railway tunnel, only to emerge with a broken and bleeding hand. He wouldn't give us all the details of his efforts to save a small child from the clutches of an angry moose in heat, but Philip emerged from the tunnel and the moose didn't. We passed entire families passed out from fatigue on the side of the trail. We helped when we could, but when we couldn't we slogged forward, onward and uphill. Always uphill. As the finish line approached, the skies finally opened and rained down hail. Hail. And with icy gravel filling the sky and rocky gravel weighing down our tires, we finally reached the car - weak in leg but strong in spirit.

Love,

Mom

P.S. Strangely enough, your dad and I were on the same trip, and enjoyed 16 miles of continuous downhill followed by a shuttle ride back uphill to our car. With stops for snacks. You were a sport all day - you loved riding in your new bike trailer. In fact, the only thing you liked more was riding in the shuttle bus back to the car. But the hail part was true.