i wanted to title this “Finding a Line.” But though that happened, it was not the theme of this adventure. After today, i am quite sure a post of that title will come eventually. but i can’t feed my biker-ego and keep my artistic integrity, and this title is much better anyway.

Everyone needed to go out, but i did not want to deal with people. I kinda didn’t want to deal with G and K, which called into question the meaning of Father’s Day: is it about being with your seed, or getting a reward? Irregardless, Beckie was clearly ready for some private time and i had not spent enough time with G today or any day as it had played out.

I opted for the Fire Station, and solitude. it has been awhile.

At first she pouted that we were not at the park, but quickly got excited about filling in holes with rocks and sprinkling sand into the wind. and she drank a lot of beer. we walked across the desert and the green shimmer of the weeds inspired G to yell out “park! park!” She knew she was wrong, but she knew it was something to explore. and then we climbed a 10-yard large-for-a-tinyHuman mound and as she got to the top she yelled “there!” I can not state more profoundly than to state it simply that her hiking skills have become proficient and her ability to navigate the desert more so reflecting her instinct for self-preservation. She weaved, turned, ducked, and when i said “find the line, G” she said “find the line” and walked around the brush.

another toe-hold.

Like many adventures of exploration, she pushed herself a little too far and was unable to make it back to the bike. Or she was just plain lazy. But the baby bonked! All of a sudden I had to carry her, and not a squirmy fidgety carry either. She hooked herself onto me and enjoyed the ride, calling out “moon” and “airplane” and “flowers” and then collapsing in the seat with a water bottle for the spin home.