my granddad's big bike ride

pedaling a bike towards a dreadful future

Memories can be odd sometimes. I have memories from childhood, that when I bring them up to my sister or parents, they don’t recall the details that I can.

Then there are things they remember as clear as day about me that seem to be stories told about another person, in another time.

This would be easy to explain if we were recalling something painful, embarrassing or utterly ridiculous. Routinely, ordinary things from out past become part of a legend that may not have happened. Our legacy regularly resides in the hearts and minds of those we leave behind when we shuffle off to Buffalo one last time.

My Granddad is a great example of this. His legend is still present in and around the campground in Lake Charlotte. According to my father, my Granddad was a hell of a skater. He once raced the wind down to the end of the lake and back and beat it both ways.

I have an image of my Granddad as a bit of an environmentalist. Somewhere in my skull, I have an image of him protesting and complaini…