Empathy for the First Time AP Student

 (Yep, it’s been awhile since I’ve posted. But that’s for another time. I have some pressing thoughts to share.) 

On my most recent rides, I’ve been thinking about *that* kid in my AP Psychology class. 

That kid who looks around on the first day, and doesn’t know many people. There’s some groups of people who have known each other for awhile, and this kid kind of stands out as not being quite sure where they fit in yet. 

This kid probably has never taken an AP class before, but they signed up for this one, as a challenge. One AP class as a stretch goal, dipping a toe in the water of a higher academic challenge. 

There’s plenty of kids who turn down my invites to join my AP course. “Nah, Miss, it’s too much work.” “I just want to have fun this year.” “I could do AP… but I don’t think I want to do that extra reading.” 

I’ve been feeling a lot of empathy for the student who chose to take an AP class for the first time. 

When you’re surrounded by classmates who sound like they know what they’re talking about, and you’re totally in over your head, mentally making a note of what to look up when you get home. On my last ride, hearing gear nerds talking about their gear ratios and cassette sizes, I’m staying quiet, and hoping nobody quizzes me on what my bike has, like that kid has the look that they hope the teacher doesn’t call on them. I can appreciate learning about this, and I’m excited to be able to participate in this discussion, but it feels overwhelming right now because I’m just trying to learn the terrain. 

I’ve signed up for some epic gravel events and I’m really not sure if I belong there yet. The distance feels daunting, and I’ve had all the thoughts about this. Did I take somebody else’s space? Somebody who would do better? Why am I putting myself in a position where I’m going to struggle, a lot? 

I know the end result will be really rewarding. I’m going to feel really amazing for challenging myself. I’m going to be an athlete, competing in a gravel races, in some incredibly remote, mountainous terrain this fall. 

Right now, I’m a novice in the dirt, doing a lot of homework, practicing, practicing, and practicing my skills. I’m comparing myself to the advanced group that has a lot more experience and a lot more confidence, but I’m fighting those feelings about belonging. I absolutely belong at the start line, just like that kid absolutely deserves that seat in the class. We’re willing to put in the work to make it happen, even when it feels uncomfortable at first. 

I’m thankful for the kind people who invited me to join them, both online and in group rides, and really excited to learn from their expertise. Like the kid joining the first AP class, surrounding yourself by people who are going to be just above your level, in this zone of proximal development (tossing out a term from Lev Vyzotzky for any of my students who have read this far!) is one of the best ways to grow. 

More AP/bicycle connections to come…

Day... ??? Happens every time

It's not just me, everyone has fallen behind on their log books. Mom had to backfill some days, Eryn lost interest in her journal. It's not that there isn't anything to write about, quite the opposite, maybe the riding feels so routine that logging the happenings of the day is no different than keeping records of what you ate for dinner every day, even if you went out and tried new restaurants all the time (which is something else we're doing)
The past few days:
Highlights:
- tunnels are always fun. Short ones, long ones, lighted, dark, even road underpasses.
One of the tunnels (I have to look up the name) is about 950 ft long, straight, so there is a clear shot of the end. I'm thinking it's short enough to forgo my light, just ride straight. There's no electric lights, and the walls are solid, so light isn't reflected off anything  (unlike one further that was lined in corrugated metal). So, at the midpoint, there is a sensation of pedalling and going nowhere, because the light at the end doesn't appear to be getting any closer. Its probably the closest to a natural sensory deprivation chamber I'm going to get.
- the train museum in Confluence (?) The kids could have spent a lot more time playing there.
- marmots, aka woodchucks, aka groundhogs! They're adorable.
- lots of fawns with their mommas.
- water is running everywhere on the rocks. I imagine a lot of these dry up for the fall, but the leaves changing colors must be a fair trade off. Considering our local waterfalls require a 4 hour hike for their 1 month season in an unshaded trail, the kids are stopping at every one for a picture.
- the kids' creativity. The mud puddles have dried, so for awhile hitting the dappled light "sun puddles" on the trail earned "points". Yesterday they were train engines, stopping to refill on coal every 5 miles, water for steam power, and they turned every nut on the handlebars into some sort of button that beeped and booped.
Challenges:
- despite having the trail guide book and the Facebook resources, there's just a lot you don't know until you get here, which for some people, that's the appeal of a fully planned, supported tour group, for us, we see it as some of the adventure and take it for what it is. If we had a kid with a severe dietary allergy, etc, I guess I'd be more adept at planning food, but I'd probably have to carry a week's worth of groceries, because we are not close to major stores and there isn't always a restaurant selection.
- it's really hard to buy wine that isn't sweet around here on the trail.
- I'm running out of songs and games. 20 questions is still popular. There is plenty to do when we're stopped, but its occupying bike time to keep the kids engaged.
Recommendations:
- I would have liked to spend a little more time in Ohiopyle, despite being full of tourists, but avoiding the weekend. We will have to try some river boating of some sort closer to home in the future.
- The GAP is still much better of a surface than the C&O, so for a short first tour, take Amtrak to Cumberland, ride to Pittsburgh, go back to Cumberland and ride down to DC, or just do the GAP in a week with an extra day or even two to play around.
- Go to Fallingwater. That gets it's own post.
- I want a bike that fits the kids (frame size) that has components that match their ability. I don't know what that is or if it's out there.

Day 9: Cumberland to Frostburg, MD: adding texture to the landscape

Keeping this one short because we're eating breakfast at The Princess  Restaurant in Frostburg.
Yesterday was uphill the entire day. There are plenty of opinions on the internet about which direction to do the trail. The best argument for uphill is that it's more scenic. When you're going down, you enjoy the speed and don't stop as much to really look around. The kids had a lot of stopping yesterday- in the first two hours, we rode an hour and stopped for a total an hour, looking at tiny frogs, eating blackberries, taking pictures of new flowers. One reason I thought it was important to take the kids is to see the ride through new eyes.
Second argument for this way, is with Bryan, up is safer than down. He isn't reckless, but he does get his attention diverted easily.
Within Frostburg, the town has some steep climbs. There's a beautiful switchback built into the hillside with a few sculptures to help get into town, but that's the only assistance. At the end of this long day, the children found new energy to challenge each other to ride as much as they could to the top and safely descended to the next hill.
Bryan had so much fun he wanted to ride his bike to the dinner restaurant, so we let him. It's amazing to see how he can work his little 16" Specialized Hotrock, a single gear, back-pedal brake, weighs a ton in proportion to him. This is a bike that is typically sold with training wheels, and he's taken it 200 miles in less than 2 weeks.
Eryn packed her derailleur with mud, so she's stuck in one gear on her Scott Slice Jr.,and crushing the hills. She has the ability to slow for Bryan and pick up speed again, or hop off on the steepest part, find a small driveway to jump back on.
Mike and I felt like we were back in old territory, and some of that muscle memory (and gear selection) kicked in.
Mom was challenged more than she let on, and I was reminded of so many hills I walked my first trip. There's a steep one in Bonita that I had to walk, 4 miles into a 3,000 mile journey that I thought I had trained for, and I couldn't ride it. I didn't even have my bags on the bike. Later that day in Alpine, I needed to walk quite a few more. But the skill came over time. It's not something I can really explain steps to hillclimb better, it's an experience lesson. Eryn gave me tips of zigzagging makes a hill easier, and I'm thrilled she is aware of these little techniques, and we turn that into some physics lessons.

Day 8: Pawpaw to Cumberland

An amazing day in so many ways. Nobody fell in the mud, but plenty of close calls. The rain didn't last, and moved on very quickly. We had a lunch stop at the Schoolhouse Kitchen (ok, that wasn't amazing food, but, we didn't have PB&J). The Airbnb in Cumberland is a supercool house with kids toys. And most of all, Eryn had the best day ever. Something clicked, and she committed to finishing strong. She's encouraging Bryan along. She understands the game plan, even if she's not the biggest fan of some of the decisions at the moment.
We towed the kids after lunch to ensure we didn't get caught in the thunderstorm, and that really helped them get through the cake-batter mud. I towed Bryan and Mike towed Eryn. While Bryan and I came up with "99 turtles sitting on a log/99 turtles on a log/one went in/for a nice swim/98 turtles sitting on a log", Eryn sang baby shark about 5 times.
We worked out a nice system of "telephone" yelling back directions of avoiding the worst mud- going left, right, through, etc. I'd tell Bryan, who told Mike, who told Eryn, who told mom.
And then we reached Cumberland. And finished the C&O. And the views of town were pretty spectacular.
At the end of the 30 mile day, it felt pretty quick.
Highlights:
- the playground in Oldtown was pretty cool.
- getting a lot better about riding in mud.
- kids inventing new games every day- instead of the alphabet game, they use colors.
- the repaired tow bungee are still working well, and they're quite popular with the other riders.
- the airbnb!
Challenges:
 - told the kids no ice cream with lunch because we'd get it at the end, then decided they should have ice cream after dinner because it was already 5:30 when we were done with the bike shop, found a closer Mexican place, and after dinner, ice cream would have been a mile walk round trip. So, kids get double ice cream today.
- the mud could have been worse, but it was a challenge for sure.
- ugh, mosquitoes.
Recommendations:
- so glad I got the kids some sport shirts in quick dry fabric. I bought Bryan 3 neon orange shirts; dressing him in the same color every day helps. Eryn  has 2 neon pink, and one blue shirts.

Day 7: Hancock to Pawpaw

This was our longest day by the miles, 32, but still ended up in town at a reasonable time, about 4:30. The concept of time going by is kind of difficult to get the children to understand. The idea of "less breaks now equals longer break at the end of the day" isn't motivating when you're just always in the present. "But this bench is really comfortable, can't I just take a nap?" Maybe in a place that didn't have afternoon thunderstorms looming and mosquitoes. If we had camp gear and let the kids pick the spots, we would probably only get 10 miles done a day, because they would play in the grass and be fine with peanut butter and jelly for every meal. Grownups have a bit higher expectation of a bed, a convenience store with wine, and some sort of hot meal, even if that ended up being the grill inside the gas station in Pawpaw.
Bryan amazes me every day with his energy and improving skills. He invented "flying" on his bike, flapping his legs on a flat part, just to do something new. He rode most of the milage yesterday on his own at a good speed. "20 questions" was the entertainment for the day- although he still struggles with the concept  that animal is a bigger category than reptile. He has pretty much always been in good spirits, and has so much patience and love for Eryn.
Eryn  amazes me with her ability to delay and outthink the adults at every opportunity. "We need to stop, my feet are slipping off the pedals"- so we tie some elastic cord around the pedals. "We need stop, I can't open my chapstick/there's dirt in my eye/my back is itchy/there's a rock in my shoe/I'm cold, I need my jacket/I'm too hot, I need to take it off" She can do the pedalling, and its gotten better, but she's tough in a lot of ways.
Highlights:
- staying with Dan at his bikepath bed and breakfast! Dan is an absolute delight, he met us about 15 miles out to ride with us, and we really enjoyed his company, local knowledge, and hospitality. And clean laundry at his place.
- the Pawpaw tunnel was epic. The engineering of this part of the canal and the history of how it was built by hand is fascinating.
- the geography leading up to the tunnel was pretty cool too.
- the 22 or so miles of the Western Maryland Rail Trail was a lovely break from the C&O, smooth pavement!
Challenges:
 - finding time to write blog posts
- of course the lunch and dinner restaurants we had planned are closed on Tuesdays.
- the mud hasn't been a significant challenge yet. Maybe for Mike, he has the skinniest tires.
- the towwhee broke, Mike fixed it enough.
Recommendations:
- maybe I should have brought one more set of clothes for the kids; Bryan wore his swim trunks to dinner, Eryn got a t shirt at the bike shop that she wore during laundry day.

Day 5: Shepardstown to Williamsport

One rule of vacation packing is always bring a swim suit, just in case. Or, at least something to swim in. I packed a two-on-one with a tankini top and some running shorts bottoms. The kids have their suits, but the swimming has been a miss so far. We didn't get in until well past 5 at the first hotel that had a pool, so after showers and dinner, swimming wasn't really an option. Today, the Potomac stretch that had a lot of boat activity still wasn't quite wading worthy- the kids did stick their hands in the water a bit. We were told that Williamsport has a good municipal pool, and it looked very cool and refreshing when we rolled into town around 4:30, but despite the sign saying they were open until 6pm, there wasn't a person in sight. Hancock also has a municipal pool, but it's not at the original park... there's a locker room building, but no pool? It must be relocated up the road a bit. The playground will have to do.
The trail had a great stretch along the river today outside of the trees. Can you get sick of the tree tunnel? Maybe if you're 5. Today, Bryan asked, "Why are we doing this?" Indirectly trying do dodge the question, I replied, "Doing what, buddy?" "Riding our bikes." "Why do you ask?" "It's boring." "You just saw a huge snake! And a new fawn! And a giant dam!" The memory is short, yet long. The next morning, Bryan asked Mike what happened to the 2 ounces of green sno-cone that was left over in Mike's water bottle. Of course, Mike had tipped it out to refill the bottles with ice water for the day, but Bryan was expecting his leftover tasty treat. He got a new blue sno-cone at the next stop, saved a little bit, and I bet Mike won't make that mistake again.
We towed the kids most of the day. It wasn't planned, but it kept them happy. I think the TowWhee bungee is still the best choice over the FollowMe tandem or the gator-bar.
Highlights:
-Bryan quizzing me on my addiction facts while he's being towed.
- The C&O national park visitors center in Williamsport
- The playground in Williamsport!
- Zoic kids' bike shorts for Eryn. The only thing she's not complaining about is her butt.
Challenges:
 - Mom and Mike were not fans of the Chinese food place, but I was starving and thought it was fine, and the kids cleared their plates, so... can't please everyone.
- Towing the children. If one gets a tow, the other has to. They're quiet for Mike, but its nonstop talking for me. Which is okay for a little bit, but then I find myself saying a lot of "I don't know" and that's frustrating for them. Eryn gets into some philosophical "would you rather be a jellyfish or a seahorse" questions, but I'm zonked by the end of the day.
Recommendations:
- I'm really exhausted, so I can't think of anything to say here, except the Red Roof Inn in Williamsport was probably one of the least comfortable beds to date.

Day 4: Harpers Ferry to Shepardstown. The shortest day was the longest

Mike asked me where I get all of my patience for my children, and I honestly don't have an answer for that. The children are good people, really. They're the sweetest, good-natured, full of honest intentions. I think my patience comes from trying to honor them as people, with their own point of view of what is important to them. It is far easier for me to see the world from their perspective than to have them see the world from mine, and nor do I want that for them in the greater sense. But there are some lessons I wish I could get through to them, like being part of a riding team means you move forward, despite feeling homesick.
Bryan was in the best spirits yesterday, and he really did his best to try to cheer up Eryn and coax her along. He suggested to just pretend Daddy was riding with us. And then told me later how much fun he was having with Eryn being there. But most of the ride, Bryan was up ahead with mom and Mike, and Eryn and I were working through her hard day.
So, I got out the Towwhee, and towed her for most of the 15 miles. I heard less about how much she wanted to go home, and more silly songs. We both pointed out things along the trail to each other- she spotted trees that looked like butts, I pointed out anything I could to keep her occupied. I told her all of the things we're going to do and see in the upcoming days, she pointed out I already told her that stuff. I rationalized with her that if we did find a way to get a train to the airport to get her home early, it would be Monday and Daddy would be at work all week, so she may as well stay through Saturday with us. She started to think about the "what-ifs" of travelling back on her own (if we really do get to the point where she just has to go home early, of course I'd go with her, but for now she's pretty convinced I'd write her a permission slip and write out directions and if she gets confused she can ask the Amtrak staff or airplane staff, and she doesn't like to talk to people, so this option seems very unnerving to her.)
My biggest hope for my daughter is for her to recognize herself as this strong, capable person, and I think it's that hope of any parent- hoping that their child is better off than the previous generation, but more in skillset and happiness and making up for what their own personal struggles are. It's hard to see the difficult parts of my mini-me, because I would love to just scoop it all up, fast-forward through the difficult years to come, and have that emergence of the strong sense-of self that will come with time and encouragement. And having her with me on this trip is one of the best ways I can think of trying to impart this adult-perspective lesson- it gets better, you are strong, capable, and you've earned a right to confidence, so show it, believe it, and live it.
Highlights:
- Shepardstown is a cool little place glad we stopped here.
- June as Pride Month is in full display in this part of West Virginia.
- another good weather day
- saw a snake! More critters to our critter count.
- the towwhee really saved the day.
Challenges:
 - an almost 9 year old girl missing home. I'm exhausted from the mental energy of that day.
Recommendations:
- PB&J lunches are still popular.
- Read the bag and make sure you're getting peanut m&ms and not the snack mix with pretzels.
- Don't let wet muddy clothes sit in your black pannier for 2 sunny days before washing. That was some serious funk. Thankfully there was laundry today.
- Walk to dinner, walk through town, wander a bit. Even if the children ring every bell in the bike shop and hit every windchime outside. They had plenty of energy to walk the mile into the heart of Shepardstown, eat dinner, and walk the mile back.
- if the boy is happy with the melted otter pop slushy thing at dairy queen, that's his choice, and don't talk him out of it.