© 2012 Timmy Tamisiea. All rights reserved. An overhead view of heartbreak.

237/365 – The Trip-Day 3: Omaha Part 2

Dad picks me up around 10:30am.  He loads my LeMond into his car and we head to Council Bluffs – his house – to go on a much needed bike ride.  This is where ol’ Deano excels.  I hadn;t ridden my bike since October and on that last day, it rained.  So my Bike is filthy and needs a tune up — to which Dad complies.  He gets it it running condition and we head out on the trail.

Not that bad, but bad enough.

It is supposed to rain, so the conditions are mildly windy with overcast skies.  Which is great for the ride.  Dad goes slow as he wants to point out all the new developments along the trail.  The Iowa side is pretty bare but there’s a lot of construction going on; a new ampatheatre and shops are in construction as we ride by busy workers.  We go through a nature preserve and find the damage last year’s floods left — most of the trees are dead and barren.  It’s quite sad.

Even better at night.

We head over the new bridge that spans the Missouri River and into downtown.  Dad rides into The Heartland of America Park.  The last time I had been here was my senior year of high school when my girlfriend at the time broke my heart — she dumped me right there.  Ugh.  It was one of those spring nights where she called me to ask if we could talk . . . which is ALWAYS the first indication of a breakup.  Since when did she need permission to TALK?  As we sat on a grassy hill, I just asked her, “Are you breaking up with me?”  Ugh again.

An overhead view of heartbreak.

Dad heads back to his house and I decide to try some urban biking and go back to Mom’s.  People in Omaha aren’t used to cyclists on the streets, so they give you an unnecessary wide berth when they pass.  It’s understandable, but weird.  The real thing about Omaha is that everyone thinks Nebraska is flat.  Illinois is flat.  Kansas is flat.  Nebraska has hills.  Omaha has big hills.  The amount of sweat I gather in a mile going up Farnam Street in Omaha was like a full 10 mile ride in Chicago.  Those were some calf builders.

An average Omaha cyclist.

When  I get to Mom’s, Tammer the Hammer is watching a Nightmare on Elm Street marathon with Megan — to which I happily oblige and join them.  Seriously, Freddy Krugar may be the funniest son of a bitch to grace a horror film.  If you want to really relax, then put on a Nightmare film.  So funny.

So, Airplane food, huh? It’s a nightmare . . . am I right?

It’s a great, restful afternoon.  Then Mom calls and needs help with her Android phone.  Jesus.  I can’t help her.  I know iPhones but not this Android crap (I told her to get an iPhone).  Megan and I decide to take a walk and help Mom out.  When I can’t do anything, we take a walk to Underwood and get some ice cream at eCream and do some thrit shopping.  There’s a large group of middle school kids from the local private school congregating at the shop.  A bunch of pimples and braces saying goodbye for the summer.  It’s cute and queazy at the same time.

Later that night, Chris, Tammer, Dad, Megan and I get some grub and then see MIB3.  This was a nice day.  Nothing too eventful to write about.  Nothing too comical.  Just relaxing.  Again, we needed this.  This is exactly why we both were looking so forward to being in Omaha.

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