This was the day that we needed.

Today had everything going for it: blue skies; warm – but not hot – weather; nearly no wind (or at least not the impenetrable wall of wind that we have endured since we arrived; and bike lanes for nearly the entire day. And not just any bike lanes; freshly paved lanes that we had almost all to ourselves. A treat. Along the way, we pause to watch a school track meet and remember when we were once athletic and active 😉

There was one flaw: on a few occasions when we had to leave the paths for city streets, we were reminded of our recent trauma, and having cars approach from behind and trusting that each and every car has an undistracted driver with proper skill, temper and good intentions. When I think about this probabilistically, I feel troubled. When I think of it statistically, I am mindful of how infrequently motor vehicles/bike collisions have occurred in my life (“none”), despite many tens of thousands of kilometers logged, I feel comforted. Still, it is a good reminder to do all of the things that I can do to improve my odds.

One person on the team acted quickly when they felt that their safety was in question, and packed up the bike for the day. Good call. Another muscled through and kept going with gritted teeth. Frankly, I say good call for that one too, as fear is a lousy concierge for a happy life.

Two funny stories made me laugh: We were all standing outside of our hotel getting ready to go: stretching, working on our bikes, applying sunscreen, and just generally making our presence known. An elderly woman exited the hotel, saw our group, stopped, and slowly surveyed us. She seemed curious about who we were and what we were doing. Then she fixed her gaze on Greg, steadied herself, pointed at her leg and said loudly “Hey, I have the exact same socks.” What are you supposed to do with that?

If you have been reading this blog series, you will remember our close encounter with a drive-by shooting on our first cycling day in Chicago. Days later, we were in Springfield, Illinois, sitting together in a somber circle having just come from seeing Steven S in the hospital. We had agreed to toast Steve S with champagne. We watched as Bill started to untwist the wire that restrains the cork, when suddenly we’dwe heard a loud and unexpected pop as the cork flew across the room. Without missing a beat, Jim called out “I’m still alive”. Classic.

We go out for a nice meal and live jazz at Evangeline’s in the Central West End (CWE) neighbourhood. I had the chance to talk with Greg and cap off a great day. More like this one, please.

Tomorrow is a day off – scheduled – and the day will start early for Bill with an NBC local Sunday Morning show.