It was everything I hoped it would be and more. I don't know how to write about it. I don't know how to give justice to what I felt biking down the mountain. It was easy, not any work at all coasting downhill. Everything around me was perfect. I was pulling Lydia and Hale in a trailer and enjoyed hearing them chit chat with each other and with me. I enjoyed the silence when Hale fell asleep and I thought Lydia was sleeping too (turns out she was just being contemplative). I liked to listen in on Scott and Josh's conversation as they shared a tag-a-long bike. My mouth wouldn't stop smiling. My heart literally swelled. My bum was killing me by the end, but it was worth it. I was torn between wanting to go fast to feel the wind and exhilaration and wanting to go slow so I wouldn't miss a thing. I wanted to stop all the time and just sit and look and take in every detail of the beauty that was surrounding me from every single direction. I want to find a cool looking map of the trail to frame for our house. I want to go back. I want to go again with just our kids. I want to go again with more families. I want to go back with just me and Scott and go all the way to Abington (he reports the Damascus-to-Abington leg is full of an entirely different type of beauty). I want to go back in the fall. I want to go in the spring. I want to go the whole sixty-eight miles uphill and down someday.
At one point Lydia was forced to use a port-a-potty. This was not a good experience. It was however quickly remedied with the purchase of an ice cream bar. Which was great until this remedy melted chocolate all over her shirt as she ate it in the trailer. She laughed and laughed when she got out and had a good look at herself, especially the stick which had stuck to her shirt.
We stopped once to wade in the creek. Scott caught a crawdad (not pictured, it was gross).