The stable of cruisers parked outside the Turkey Run Lodge promise nostalgia but turn into old nags that whine and moan when you pedal.
With only a single gear, they’re totally unsuited for these hills.
Worst of all, they’re not allowed on the trails — and there are only like 5 miles of paved surfaces in this particular state park.
But never mind all that. That‘s just my inner fitness junkie talking, the self absorbed control freak who was secretly hoping to pack a couple of triathlon workouts into this little two-day getaway with her husband.
It is, after all, ultimately a good thing that this is not one of those drive-through state parks that enable tourists to “ooh” and “ahh” over spectacular views from the comfort of their vehicles. What Turkey Run lacks in smooth surfaces is more than made up for on its trails weaving through spectacular hidden gorges and mini-canyons you wouldn’t expect to find in Indiana.
You’d have a hard time riding a mountain bike on some of these trails, much less a cruiser. And that, too, is a good thing.
Then, without really thinking about what I’m doing, I stand up to gain some momentum going over a little rise in the road. And in that moment, in that forgotten yet familiar movement, I’m suddenly transported back to being a kid again.
A kid on an old bike with no gears or hand brakes, pedaling around and around in a big circle just for the heck of it, on a play date with her 50-year-old husband.