Just Riding Along

It’s late here on Friday afternoon in Belgium, so I’m going to keep this one short.

This short story is about perspective and excitement. About pleasures that are brought to us by people close to us.

My family and I moved to Antwerp, Belgium about three months ago. There’s been some rough times getting adjusted, but it’s really awesome 90% of the time. In the short time I’ve been here, I’ve been to the Cyclocross World Championships, watched a big pro race in Gent, rode the most of the climbs on the Ronde van Vlaanderen course, then watched the race on the Koppenberg the next day. This weekend, I’ll take my youngest daughter to Roubaix to watch the end of Paris-Roubaix. And I won’t even get into how awesome the beer is here.

But something happened three days ago that made any and all cycling culture in which I may be immersed was blown out of the water. On Monday, my oldest daughter, Kaya, learned how to ride a bike. We worked at it, and focused and kept at it. Before I knew it, she saddled up and pedaled away. Seeing that was one of the best experiences of my life.

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