“I don’t ride a bike to add days to my life. I ride a bike to add life to my days” – Unknown
It’s a sad day in the Schwenk Tank. No, it has nothing to do with bike riding. Today is the day that our Son, Conor, goes back home. That’s not the upsetting part, though.
More heartbreaking for Kristin and Me is that he wants to leave. It turns out six days is his RV living limit, and he has made it clear, in a smiling, charming way, of course!
We’re also a bit blue to leave our overnight destination, the Fremont Lakes. It was the most active and exciting campsite we’ve had the pleasure to experience. Thousands of people congregate here, motivated to spend a lot of their disposable income to have fun on toys other than horses.
It’s like the Yacht Club scene in Caddyshack meets Nascar. Pontoon boats packed with partiers, souped-up jet skis, ski boats pulling slalom skiers, kayaks, and swimmers, all were living together. All were making hundreds of left turns as they flew around the track-like lake with an island in the middle.
It was nutz! And fun.
The adventure must go on! Honestly, I won’t be sad to see my last stalk of Nebraska corn. The ride was a nice one today. It will be the closest I get to a recovery day, and I tried to approach it that way.
Lake Cunningham in the suburbs of Omaha is NOTHING like Fremont. No swimming, no motorboats, and no people watching, but it is subdued, relaxing, and finely manicured. It’s perfect for a day like this one.
I rolled in early as planned. We had a lot of stuff to do in Omaha and needed an early start. We did some shopping and laundry on the outskirts of the city. We’re not in the country anymore, relatively, but it is colorful.
If I weren’t riding my bike, I’d be driving this hoopty whip! Not!
Six days is enough time cooped up in an RV for Conor, and coincidentally it’s also the maximum time that Uncle Rudy could stay away. We picked him up from the airport and went downtown to explore. Conor’s flight departed a few hours later and we had time to kill.
Omaha is a sprawling city. Regrettably, we only had time to experience a small part. What we did see was fun, progressive, and hip. It reminded me of the Midwest’s version of San Francisco. The bike culture was palpable and refreshing, and that was cool!
Good beer is hard to find in Nebraska. I found some VERY fine brews in Omaha’s Brickway Brewery. It also gave us a few final fun moments with our boy. We’re going to miss him, again!
About the DIRT Dad Fundo Pledge for Day Thirty-Three—Gene Nifenecker
Here is what Gene had to say—”I’m a loyal patient and supporter of Chris!”
Amount Raised to Date—$7,798
Thank you, Gene!
Now off to Shelby, Iowa!
Semi-retired as owner and director of his private Orthopedic Physical Therapy practice after over 20 years, Chris is blessed with the freedom to pursue his passion for virtual cycling and writing. On a continual quest to give back to his bike for all the rewarding experiences and relationships it has provided him, he created a non-profit. Chris is committed to helping others with his bike through its work and the pages of his site. In the summer of 2022, he rode 3,900 miles from San Francisco to New York to support the charity he founded, http://www.TheDIRTDadFund.com. His “Gain Cave” resides on the North Fork of Long Island, where he lives with his beautiful wife and is proud of his two independent children.