Valentine's Day circa 1996...
Chris would check tires, chains, brakes and ensure we had extra tubes and the proper allen wrenches for our bikes. I made sure we had snacks.
We'd head to the desert, ride for a while and stop for lunch. Pop-Tarts and water under a tree.
I frequently crashed -- usually pedaling uphill -- and Chris always sacrificed his water to clean my scratches. Sometimes I cried... pain, frustration, fatigue or nothing more than a bruised ego. Chris was never sharp with me. You almost had it. Take as long as you need -- we have plenty of time.
We don't have those bikes, that truck, or live near the tree. And my leg sports a wrinkled knee, a few scars and evidence of Pop-Tart consumption [as all of our legs should].
But we still have each other this Valentine's Day. Plus three handsome reminders of what intoxication on Pop-Tarts and water -- plus playing a little doctor -- can produce.