|I would've never made it without Rick Castro,|
dad of William's Felt team mate Ricky, who promptly
changed the tube I blew up in William's cruiser.
The week after the Super Nationals in DeSoto, TX, I lamented to Vann, "I can't catch up. I'm worn out!" To my sweet husband's credit, he sympathized, obviously understanding the logistics of traveling half-way across the country, toting two boys and three bikes. It would've been four, but I left one home, Wyatt's cruiser, deciding that I couldn't handle the tight turn around between cruiser and intermediate during quarters and semis.
Tired or not, it was worth it. I relished the time with my boys, and they raced like champions, together earning five podium spots for the weekend.
One weekend later, we were in our home town of Fort Walton Beach for a USA BMX FL state qualifier, where I whined to our friend Bill Madden, "I don't get it. I'm STILL tired!" He commiserated as he hobbled on his healing broken hip, which didn't stop him from snapping a few gates.
|As for the HTG monogram, you'll just have to guess.|
On March 29 the unthinkable happened, I turned 40. Vann and the boys showered me with cards, flowers, kisses and CAKE - home made by my favorite chef- Vann the Man.
At 4 the next morning, Vann drove me to the airport. I hadn't been to Wyoming since our honeymoon, where Vann got frostbitten on a deadly snow mobile excursion, and we were far too cold to do what honeymooners generally do.
It was time for #sistertrip2012.
I know I'm lucky. I have a sister who I share everything with, and she shares everything with me. Every year it's non-negotiable-- We're together for one week of sisterly love.
It's our sixth night in Jackson, WY, where we remember childhood summers sipping Shirley Temples in the Cowboy Bar, and long family drives through the Tetons. If I had to choose one paradise, it would be here.
My sister Wendy and I don't ski. We've been asked that question 100 times this week. Instead we play cards by our fire, and remember who we are.