Dee-mo in town

Just as I turned off the light to head for bed last night, I heard the “boink” of a message.
Susan DeMattei writes: “wanna go for a ride at 6 am tomorrow?
She lives in Gunnison, Colorado, and only makes it to Marin annually.

I called her  dad’s house.

“Damn, I’m already riding with three friends at 9:30… I guess not, boo hoo hoo.

Hopped in bed and let the full moon give me ideas.

First was “gee, the larder’s low, maybe I should scrounge…”.

Then: why not hop on bike at FIVE and arrive in Mill  Valley at six, surprise Susan…then pedal back to be on time for my girl-gang.

I was on the bike at 5:15, nobody on the road except a lone bike commuter that thought he’d blow past me (sorry, dude, I’m an accomplished wheelsucker) and instead was stuck in a polemical discussion of our country’s sad health care situation.

He just wanted to blaze to work in the city; I just wanted a reason to fly at 2mph faster than my usual dawdle.

It worked, Sue’s dad answered the door with a surprised smile, and declined to let me jump up and down on Susan’s bed.

We pedaled  back to the Fax, she saw the garden and Charlie, and headed out to finish her ride while I basked in the afterglow of a proper visit with my bicycle little sis with the heart of gold.

~ by jacquiephelan on June 15, 2011.

One Response to “Dee-mo in town”

  1. They never let us jump up and down on the bed. Dads are just that way.

    You sent me a book so I sent you a song.

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