Snow was on the ground when friends Shelia and Jerry first mentioned organizing a day’s cycling adventure once the weather was nicer. We tried to coordinate a date for May or June, but bad weather and household emergencies got in the way. On a brutally hot day this month they brought up the idea again. “Let’s try the Virginia Creeper Trail in September or October, Pete,” Jerry said. “It’ll be cooler then.”
“And the fall colors will be beautiful,” Shelia added.
“Where is that?” my husband asked.
“Southwest, near Abingdon,” Jerry said. “It’s an easy trail. They take you to the top and you coast down, almost never have to pedal.”
Peter wore his worried face. “I don’t think I can ride a bike anymore.”
Jerry winked at me and Shelia said, “Just think about it, Pete. We’ll set a date later.”
My husband knocked off thousands of cycling miles a year, even while he was still working, more after he retired. He has a custom bike that is the envy of anyone who knows bicycles, but he hasn’t ridden, not even his “junker,” in at least five years. “I’ll get lost,” he always says.
He’s forgotten so much, but he remembers the concussion he got in a bike race years ago. He slid out on wet pavement — no helmet — and hit his head. He blames that on his memory loss, and maybe that’s why he won’t commit to a ride, even on a local trail.
After our friends left, I said I thought he’d be able to ride the Creeper trail. “Why don’t we take our bikes out and ride around the block to see how you — how we — do,” I said.
“I might fall off.”
“Riding a bike is like riding a horse,” I said, twisting the old catchphrase. “You don’t forget, and if you fall off, you get right back on again.”
“You remember the last time I rode a horse, don’t you? The horse died the next day!” His face turned red and his eyes watered, he was laughing so hard. Dementia hasn’t erased that memory.
That poor horse died more than forty years ago. We hadn’t even met when it happened, but we’ve laughed about it for years.
Header: Huckleberry Trail, 2014.
2016 National Society of Newspaper Columnists’ contest finalist. 
Laughter is his best medicine. And you!
Thanks, Robin.
I didn’t know a horse died the day after Peter rode it. Learning something new every day!
Yup, several years before we knew him.
Still waiting for an Oct date! Keep reminding Pete of the little train: “I think I can, I think I can” or has he fallen off a train too???😊
Um, I don’t know about falling off, but he didn’t like our trans-Canada-by-rail trip. 🙁 I’ll keep working on him.
Wait a minute, what horse died??
The horse belonged to the wife of one of Peter’s rugby friends. The marriage didn’t last, but I don’t know if the dead horse had anything to do with it. 😉
Never had heard about the horse dying. The Virginia Creeper Trail is lovely, Hope you’ll be able to enjoy it,even if it is only a short walk on it.
Yes, it might be a walk, but better than nothing!