For the first time today, I had the opportunity to really ponder what it might be like to be a migratory animal. Specifically, the mother of two smaller migratory animals, who really need to stay with the herd or else the family bike ride is going to take forever and be teeth-gritting and mama-crazing instead of relaxing exercise. Um, wait, that part was about me. Seriously, though, what do mama elk do when their babies want to stop and examine leaves, or go the wrong direction, or bike on the grass instead of on the bike trail, or get off their bikes to *run* because they figure (correctly) that things will just be faster that way? Luckily, we brought the bike trailer, so Peter had a few transfers back and forth from his bike to the bike trailer (from which trailed... his bike. We were like circus clowns.)
The good, fun part is that Peter is riding his own teeny bike, and riding it well. Grace is riding so fast that we have to calibrate our speed to go on family bike rides. But by the time next spring rolls around, his legs will be longer, the park will seem closer and maybe we'll be able to successfully migrate with our herd.
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