Josh Friend
Note from the editor: Josh Friend, Jacob Friend’s dad, is serving as a guest contributor for today’s blog. After spending the day with the crew in Kalkaska, we’re hoping he can give some outside perspective.
Once upon a recent yesterday, in BFE outside Traverse City, four men on bicycles rolled into town, road weary. They were known only by their mad max titles: Big B, Michael—Destroyer of Wheels, Usher the Skipper, and OfficeMax.
Their quest? An attempt to find their mental and physical limits. To attempt the unequivocal.
And who should appear, cresting the horizon in a chariot of snacks, clean socks, and parental pride? None other than OfficeMax's father, the Honorable Dad of the East, and Uncle Chad, his most trusted advisor.
The latest victim of Michael, Destroyer of Wheels
"We heard tale of four sunburnt weirdos and bottomless appetites,” he said, stepping from his magic grocery cart with all the gravitas of a dad who'd just convinced himself the "Best Dad" coffee mug was empirical fact.
Josh Friend: Dad of the East and Provider of Groceries
The cyclists welcomed the old men into their traveling fellowship. They enjoyed a feast combined with an unhealthy mountain of dairy products. Cookies died. Ice cream perished. Courage faltered. An accord was signed. Sleep was paramount. A soft bed after days of saddle-time was undeniable. Uncle Chad dissented. Sleep was optional. Karaoke was paramount.
The Destroyer of Wheels eyes up his next target
A pensive night holding off rural tent-zombies was rewarded with a beautiful morning stacked with French toast. The day planned, the newly formed tribe of young and old reprobates toured Traverse City, testing the boundaries of acceptable social behavior. The true magic happened that afternoon, when the reprobates met the noble kin of Big B and Michael, Destroyer of Wheels. There was a father (wise and kind), a set of grandparents (keepers of tales), and an aunt (just there so she didn't get fined). They feasted like royalty on pub-grub, exchanging embellished stories of their "summer of '69.”
The Richardson clan at the Traverse City Festival of Cherries
OfficeMax's dad watched the cyclists, pride welling in his chest. He observed his son, his back kissed by a sun-angel, tested, confident, and full of quiet grit. The road highlighted the man he knows. His accomplished comrades were yet another datapoint: show me your friends, and I'll show you your future.
Dad of the East reunited at long last with his heir, OfficeMax
Soon the four adventurers will saddle up yet again. With hugs, waves, and one last cringe dad joke, they'll clip in and vanish down the road bound for the next town, the next story. OfficeMax's dad will fallback to Red in Shawshank. "Sometimes it makes me sad, though...OfficeMax being gone. I have to remind myself that some birds aren't meant to be caged. Their feathers are just too bright. And when they fly away, the part of you that knows it was a sin to lock them up DOES rejoice. But still, the place you live in is that much more drab and empty that they're gone. I guess I just miss my son."