I love my children with all of my heart, but my son’s scouting trips nearly killed me. I’m about as skilled in the woods as Joan Rivers.
Seriously, I do ok camping and fishing. I can start a fire, cook some great camping food, assemble a tent, you get the idea. In fact, I love camping. It’s fun. I don’t know what the Cubs Scouts do that turns me into a blubbering moron, but whatever it is, it always worked great on me.
The first time I went with my son on a scout outing, he called me during the week and told me the scouts and Dads were going to go for a bike ride on Saturday. I was excited. I love my son, it’s fun meeting new people and I love to ride bikes. What could possibly go wrong?
I lived about an hour away, and when I arrived, everyone was getting ready to ride! Fun! I found my son, got my bike and began listening to the scout master lay out the plans. We would begin in Riverside, California and complete the ride in Huntington Beach. I know! A 50 mile bike ride!
I realize that 50 miles might be a training ride for a seasoned rider, but for me? It might just as well have been 200 miles. I hadn’t been on a bike in at least 10 years. I determined that if I just took it easy, I should be able to complete the ride.
We started out, making it to the first rest stop without a hitch. This will be easy, I thought. I made it 32 miles before I determined that if I pushed down on the pedal one more time, I might never walk again. So, the truck that picked up the ashamed took me the rest of the way.
When we arrived at the beach, my son and his friends were already there, eating hot dogs cooked over a roasting fire. As I watched my kid having so much fun, it occurred to me that I wouldn’t be able to throttle him for neglecting to tell me the tiny detail regarding the length of the ride until we were alone. I’m kidding. I was happy to be a part of it, and it turned out that he was proud of me for making it 32 miles.
There are a couple of other stories about “fun” outings with the scouts that caused me to stop going. I’ll write about those tomorrow. I know that must sound horrible, but you’ll understand when you read about the incidents.
See you tomorrow.
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