We hoped to arrive in Hayward today by 10 a.m. to ring cowbells for Birkie skiers as they come up Main Street and cross the finish line.
That's what we do. We ring cowbells. We're expert cowbell ringers.
Some people skate ski in the Birkie. Some people ski classic style. Both take skill and endurance.
The rest of us stand around ringing cowbells.
I am a cowbell ringer extraordinaire.
HOWEVER, our "slip slidin' away" adventure of the morning (see previous post) took soooooo long we didn't hit Main Street until 1:17 p.m.
I know - I checked
At this point I digress.
These Birkie cross country skiers ski over hill and dale all the way from Cable to Hayward. (look on a map) That's a 30 mile track for skate skiers and 32 miles for classic.
I SAID 30 OR 32 MILES.
I thought the three blocks I had to walk from the car was FUR 'NUF on a blustery 9° winter day.
So after taking these two snaps I was ready to find lunch.
I just gotta tell ta, there ain't much better on a 9° blustery day than eating a steamy "dog" right out on the sidewalk while Fisherhubby rings a cowbell in your ear.
Except I just really did think my brat holding hand was gonna freeze off before I could shove that dog down my throat.
We've vacationed here for so long and hubs has hung out in the Fly Fishing shop so many times that the owner Larry is now a friend.
(And cowbell ringers extraordinaire come to find a little girl's room.)
It was warm, cozy, crowded and the little girl's room was available.
In one day.
In just a few hours of one day.
I couldn't walk 32 miles in 10 days, so Ken is my hero.