Tired Quads: A Dream Come True
During an early childhood trip to Virginia, I saw what seemed — to me — to be the most amazing, magical vehicles. Strange contraptions of pastel plastic, the vessels glided across the calm lake, among the waterlilies and ducks, passengers pedaling leisurely. A paddleboat. What a fabulous idea. And thus began a lifelong dream of, someday, propelling one of these fantastic crafts myself.
Basically, I’m saying that I was dreaming about paddleboating for a good five years longer than I dreamed of getting married.
Noel made fun of this fascination rather mercilessly. “They’re silly,” he told me, “you can’t really steer them, it takes more energy than it’s worth, and they’re silly.” And while I silenced my praise and pleading for a while, I was hardly dissuaded.
And then, yesterday, it happened. As a (half) birthday gift, Noel took me to Forest Park and we, indeed, went paddleboating. And I had a blast. We pedaled and paddled through the Post-Dispatch Lake, under bridges, and around the fountains in the Grand Basin at the foot of Art Hill.
Noel, was, of course, correct about the unfortunate physics of paddleboating. It’s certainly not efficient and I was surprised at how quickly my legs started to feel the burn. At first I was startled. Was I so out of shape? How were these retirees across the lake doing this? Then, I realized: being married to a quick-walking, strong-thighed husband does set the bar rather high in terms of velocity. While other couples pushed their legs in languorous, smooth strokes, the Weichbrodts pedaled vigorously, finding the vessel’s peak speed and then metronomically maintaining the pace. Romantic and aerobic. We’re cool like that.
casselberry said:
on July 6, 2007 at 9:29 am
I would venture that no midwestern upbringing is complete without paddleboating. I imagine Noel agrees on this point as a fellow midwesterner. Good to hear your island childhood experiences being augmented by the more idyllic features of the midwest.
funke said:
on November 4, 2007 at 7:32 pm
I suppose if it is any consolation, at least these these uninitiated undergrads limited their choices to artists? I see no predilection to suggest that these works were the product of Monteverdi’s genius…