Mmmm, Smells Like Turkey

No, not our kitchen, that smells like ham, but the various neighborhoods we rode through today were drenched with the aroma of roasting turkey. The density of the automobile traffic today was rather surprising, there were a great deal of cars on the road for Thanksgiving day. However, bicycle traffic was disappointing, I thought I would see more roadies justifying the calories they were to later consume. Although I must say we did have a rather late start on the road today, as I only awoke upon the hour noon.
My mother and I rode through the quaint residential areas of Beaverton, so nice they were on this beautiful crisp fall day. Golden and crimson leaves speckled the ground and the sun shone trough the trees' bare branches. All the while I pondered why my mother deary was riding with her headlight on in the middle of the sun filled day.
Then we rode home, straight into a rather august headwind. My mother found the riding unfathomable, and the head wind much too strong, where as I unleashed my inner-timetrialer, and rode on boldly into the wind. Whenever I thought I could go no harder, whenever I thought that wind defeated me, I pushed harder. (There was some cocoa waiting for me at home, and it was cold out) As I came sailing up BH I hit a red light. Oh the horror! I could not stop, I had lovely pace! I thought quickly, and I did the unthinkable. I turned right, and ascended the street known as 30th. (the other side of Dosch, which really isn't that big of climb) I stood on the pedals applying all the power I could muster. I attacked the climb, one pedal stroke at a time. The crest of the hill came into to sight, and where most would despair I dug a little deeper, I worked a little harder, and then I came to the top, where I felt oh, so victorious, I could already taste the hot cocoa in my mouth. Just one left turn, and a couple yards down the road and there I was, home, sweet home.