Rick Dunaway writes about his ride at the 102 Valley Bicycle Race and Tour in Hopkins, MO, last weekend:
It was nearly a last-minute decision I made to take my grandson, Austin Foran, with me to the event. I had flirted with the idea of riding the route before my daughter called me mid-week from Kansas City to ask if I would mind watching him for the weekend while she spent the weekend in Kentucky.
I didn’t mind a bit, especially since it had been way too long since we’d visited. Despite just a one-hour distance between us, my daughter’s busy schedule, combined with my own, makes those get-togethers painfully infrequent.
“But,” I added at the last minute before she hung up, “can he bring his bicycle?”
So Austin arrived on my doorstep on Friday afternoon with his single-speed, 20-inch mountain bike — not at all what a person would want to ride on a road tour. Still, I gave him the option, and he heartily agreed, despite not riding all spring due to a blown back tire. . . .
So Austin, my wife and I found ourselves at the starting line of the more leisurely tour portion of the event. I had decided that we would tackle only the shortest, eight-mile route, since my wife was still recovering from knee surgery and Austin’s bicycle was ... well, not the best tool for this job.
We reached the four-mile point, my 11-year-old guest furiously pedaling up the rolling hills and catching his breath down them, as I kept a steady, slow pace on my brand new road bike. Others around Austin’s age pedalled furiously, too, but one by one they were collected by the “sweep,” the truck that shuttled weary riders and their machines back to the starting point before their goal was completed.
