And the Wheels Turn

I am on my bike. I do not want to be. Well, I do kind of. But not really. I am not in shape, and my husband has no concept of time or distance. Well, he does, and I know he’ll turn back if I ask, but I also know he wants to share this time with me and that he has hopes of riding the rail trails again. I’d rather walk. Snap pictures. I’ve tucked my camera in the phone pocket on my handlebars. But it’s too hard to stop and get off and go again. So I keep pedaling. Up and down. Round and round. “How did this thing get into seventh gear?” I yell at the speck far in front of me. He stops and waits and reminds me how to downshift. We go a short way on pavement, and then it’s gravel. Some oiled, some soft. I swerve back and forth...