Little everyday adventures

I don't do a good job of watching the weather report, so Saturday surprised me with so much sunshine and 80-degree weather. Jeff and I decided to celebrate it on Sunday, thinking this lovely weather is a sign it's time to take our bikes out to the beach.

We headed out and arrived at Manhattan Beach at around 11 a.m. We parked, stuffed the meter full of quarters, and we were on our way. I love my bike, because it's one of those things that feels the same at 34 as it did at age 8. There's this wonderful freedom, with the wind in my face and the sense that me and my bike can go anywhere. (As long as I'm home before the streetlights come on.) The sun sparkled on the waves, and though it was cold enough for a sweatshirt, bikini-clad girls were already playing beach volleyball, toddlers in nothing but sand and wet bathing suits splashed into the water. In our minds, it is already summertime.

Jeff and I hopped off our bikes to stroll up the Manhattan Beach pier. This was our view. The fog rolled in for a bit, but the sun was shining by the time we hit Hermosa beach for fish and wine and long talks. We stopped by the Lighthouse Cafe, one of the places Jeff grew up, stealing red and green maraschino cherries from behind the bar when he was just a tiny boy.

We pedaled down to Redondo beach, more strolling on the boardwalk and more holding hands and laughing and talking. I sipped cool, sweet cider, wedged against Jeff in two stools at the end of a crowded bar while a band covered hair band tunes. We were inspired to try the pedal boats, and so we raced our bikes back to where we left the car, a little under five miles away. I pushed myself as hard as I could, and we finished our trek in no time, a little flushed. Our pedal boat adventure didn't go quite as planned.

Just as in the grocery store there's always that one cart with the wonky wheel that doesn't want to go straight, so too, did we get the wonky pedal boat. To make matters worse, seaweed got tangled up in the paddles underneath the boat, and we were stuck for a bit. And then, one of the seats broke. It was a hard, rigorous but terribly short trip back to the dock, where we were greeted with our money back. But we laughed the whole way.

We finished the night with more fish and more drinks and more talk. We had a moment to watch the sunset, and it was long after dark when we returned home. A long day of memories, all of it prompted by a simple, "hey, let's ride bikes on Sunday."