The Big Sick and The Big River

A has pneumonia. A wretched nasty lung buttery case of it. I spent last weekend trying to simultaneously keep G clear of her so she could rest, take care of her, and keep G occupied.

Friday evening there was an EMT and Police incident in front of our house. G and I were heading to "monkey bar park" when two cop cars, a fire truck and ambulance all showed up for a passed out individual that none of us neighbors knew. Ultimately G missed out on the park before dinner but got to live large with sirens, lights and ladders.


Saturday he and I went to a nearby bike race at an industrial area around a bakery. The bakery was giving away free bread. We got to see the tail end of the Masters race and the the first part of the Women's race. G was anxious to get home and make toast to help mom feel better.


photo courtesy of Oregon Cycling Action

Sunday we went for a boat-bike ride and found ourselves in the middle of the Portland Triathlon run/bike exchange and Start/Finish area. Granted, from the waterfront the only way for us to get onto the Hawthorne bridge was to pass through the crowds gathered for the event. It was a little embarrassing but G shamelessly played his harmonica as we rolled up to the bridge.

Then we came across the Portland Century fun ride on the Springwater trail. The 25 and 50-mile events were using the path system around Portland for their route. The trail has been recently repaved so the draw to ride with the event was pretty alluring. We stopped at a park for G to play for an hour, watched airplanes descend to land at PDX, ate Fig Neutons, and changed his diaper. Some text messaging with A revealed she was not feeling any better.




G was getting tired and ready for his nap. The conundrum was that while he will sleep soundly in the boat, he won't wake then go back to sleep should we arrive home midway through his nap. So I convinced him we would take the slightly longer way home and see "the big river". Not to be confused with the "down town river" he see's from his perch regularly.

Sure enough, soon after getting to the bike path along the Columbia, he was sound asleep. The good news was that it would be quiet, smooth pathway all the way home. The bad news was the headwind and the dark rain cloud ahead of us. The Portland Century riders passed above us on Marine Drive in drafting clusters of 4's and 5's. We stuck to the waters edge knowing there was no one interested in sharing the work with a boat bike.



Watching him nap always reminds me to pedal smoothly. Looking ahead, the pathway was visible for miles. Miles of headwind with white caps of river waves to remind me of the wind should my legs forget. I could see the thunder cells building over the west hills and knew eventually we would face a shower. I considered the fatigue in my legs, the pain of my hip, the light lunch at the park and how much back-washed Gatorade G left for me to drink. As we got closer to home we stopped under an over-pass to let the harshest part of a thunder shower blow through. I texted with A and she was still in the same misery. G was fine as he got to watch MAX trains speed by. The break gave me a second wind to continue to power us home at a respectable pace.

Monday A finally got some antibiotics and prescription cough syrup. That afternoon G and I rode to "monkey bar park" of which we missed on Friday evening. He went straight for "the big slide."