Nicholas just about lost it early this morn, June 22, while biking in our Mallard Point neighborhood. He was by himself and didn't do well making the right turn off of Woodduck onto Mallard Point Drive. He went up and over a high shoulder onto a front lawn with his road bike suddenly doubling as a mountain bike. Nothing hurt but his pride.
One thing I've learned since beginning road biking: 35 miles per hour on a bike is a lot different than 35 miles per hour in a car. You really feel the speed on a bike. I find myself saying some quick "Hail Marys" while careening out of control down these Scott County country roads. To mangle the cowardly Oz lion's prayer--"I do believe in flat tires, I do, I do."
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