It’s been less than 24 hours since we pulled into Bend, Oregon for our end-of-summer getaway. Driving for two days from San Diego always brings my little family together like the coach section aboard United Airlines bonds strangers on international flights. You have one option: up close and very personal. Snoring. Incessant chatting. Wild barking (we brought our two Maltese dogs).
But once you set up in a quality place where so many good times have been had in years past, you instantly remember why you’re here. There are new memories to be made. Miles to be covered. New personal roads traveled. Wind. Sun. Water. Rest. Healthy food. Deepest sleep. Great stories. Belly laughs. Hugs. Fresh air. And renewed closeness that strengthens your relationships with your spouse and children for life’s future unforeseen bumps, detours and storms.
This is the closest I can get to perfection. It’s also the best way I can taste cycling purity. Each pedal stroke feels better than the one before. Every view is savored. Every breath becomes deeper and more rewarding. It’s why remembering is today’s crave, on this, day one of Summer Vacation 2009. It had been far too long since we’ve been here. I’m glad I didn’t forget this place.
Cascade Lakes Highway, north of Cultus Lake
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