Do I Hear Thirty, Thirty-Five?

Last Saturday morning we went to an auction in town, I was after a bike and the county Sherriff’s department was selling their lot of stolen bicycles to the public.  David and I had inspected the lot the night before.  I picked the one that I really wanted and a few others that would do if I didn’t win the auction.  I’ve been wanting to ride the greenbelt with the Farmers not only to save what’s left of my sanity, but to give them an opportunity to ‘blow some stink off’ as my mother would say.

The first bike up for auction happened to be a red/silver X-100 Mongoose.  Apparently, it was something that we wanted.  Dave would nudge Devin to raise the bidding card, who thought that it was the coolest thing in the world.  Of course it is, spending someone else’s money in a fast-paced bidding war is always fun.  Mere seconds later, Devin was the proud owner of said bike.  Technically it’s for Dad, but Devin can ride it whenever were not going on a family ride.

My bike was next, number 27 – a green Hard Rock ATB from Specialized.  One small, teensy-weensy step cooler than an old-woman bike.  It’s been a few years since I’ve ridden, I can attest to the adage of ‘once you have, you’ll never forget’.  I didn’t crash getting out of the driveway…

As if we haven’t spent enough money already, I bought D.J. the last boy bike of  the singular item lots.  A gold, Hoop D Mongoose.  It’s part of his Birthday and he loves it. His first real-boy bike.

We’ve been on two rides so far this week and plan on yet another this afternoon.  It’s hard to be stuck inside on the edge of winter.  The air is still biting cold and numbs your fingers in about five minutes, but it’s so worth the fresh air and worn out Farmers.  Miss Is just might be off her trainers next week!

Labels: Family