Riding In Europe? I wish!

I was nearing the midpoint of my 80 mile ride this past weekend when I pulled up behind a line of cars at the Jamestown Ferry. The previous ferry had just pulled away, so I knew I had at least a 30 minute wait. I leaned my bike against a sign post and struck up a conversation with a couple of older gentlemen from Tupelo, MS. They were just arriving in the area and were planning to spend the next week touring all the Colonial areas.

I was wearing my RAGBRAI jersey. Not being cyclists themselves, one of the gentlemen asked where in Europe this RAGBRAI ride was. I explained that RAGBRAI stood for “Register’s Annual Great Bike Ride Across Iowa", which is an awesome, annual bike ride across the state of Iowa. They seemed stuck on the European track and inquired as to whether I had done much riding in Europe. Call it alignment of the stars, Divine providence, fate or whatever, but I felt compelled to spill my guts.

I explained to them that sadly I had never ridden in Europe. However, I was quick to point out that this blatantly cruel and unjust deprival had nothing to do with a lack of interest or desire. Quite the contrary is true. I would love to spend days, weeks or even months on two wheels exploring all that Europe had to offer. The cold hard truth is, I’ve never ridden in Europe because of my wife. She’s not the cycling type. While in every other area of her life, my wife is a loving, selfless, humble, tender human being; when it comes to cycling she is selfish, insensitive and unreasonable. It is beyond her ability to fathom why I would use the precious little vacation I have earned to go riding through Europe while she and the boys entertained themselves here in the states.

As the ferry pulled up, the two elderly gentlemen glanced around to make sure their wives weren’t within earshot and whispered, “Yea, you’re right, women are like that!” Then they spun around and hastily made their way back to their vehicle. As I grabbed my bike, I smiled a broad, contented smile and glanced back at the vehicle containing the two elderly gentlemen from Tupelo, MS. The glare of the sun on the windshield prevented me from seeing them, but I knew we exchanged a knowing glance. Though we came from different places, though we were bred in different generations, though we had completely different interests, we were kindred spirits. We shared an all important truth. “GIRL ARE BAD:-)"