I'm on vacation and woke up early this morning. 5:00 a.m.

I had a coffee, got on my bike, and went out for a ride at about 6:00.
There's almost no one around at 6:00 in the morning, which is for the 
best. Riding among a lot of cars isn't fun, especially since there are 
no bike lanes in my neighbourhood. 

On the ride, it was beautiful and sunny. It was cool out too: four 
degrees Celsius. I spent most of my time in back alleys. There's more to 
learn about people when you look at the back of their houses. The front 
is almost always an orderly facade that tells you almost nothing about 
them. The back is where you see the remains of projects, piles of stuff 
bound for the dump, and building materials yet to be used. Around back, 
you find garages and workshops. One of my neighbours has a little 
potter's shack in his back yard. Another works on old boats. That kind 
of thing fascinates me. I feel like I know them. But I don't know them 
at all.

I live on a very steep hill. The ride down is great -- and sometimes a 
bit scary. The ride back up? It's a challenge. I can now make it as far 
as Larry's driveway. Larry hasn't lived there for about six years now, 
but it will always be Larry's driveway to me. He was a great neighbour 
and I miss him. Larry's driveway is about 85% of the way up the hill. I 
walk the bike up the rest of the way.

My goal is to ride to the top of the hill before the end of the summer. 
I think I could push myself and get to the top now, but I also think 
that's how late-middle-aged people kill themselves! I'm completely out 
of breath and my heart is beating wildly when I'm done.

I'll give it another try tomorrow.