Fun is Fundamental Doug Hall
It’s still in me as I sit here on a glorious clear morning in late July in Michigan’s Upper Peninsula, a day in which the trees are singing and the air is bursting with summer. It’s still in me on Day Two of being back here again – all that adventure, all that sense of freedom and play, all that fun.
My guy and I are home from the Tour de France and we had a blast. It was as though we were two kids on a week-long play-date, bumbling our way on freeways and backroads from Barcelona in Spain through the foothills of the Pyrenees, to the lavender fields and olive groves and apricot orchards of Provence to the mighty snow-capped Haute-Alps of France. And if that wasn’t play-date enough – to adventure in unknown territory like Huck Finn in our motorhome raft, to feast on something new around every corner, a chateaux, a castle, a town perched on a mountaintop – we also had a bike race to chase. Where would we find these bikers extra-ordinaire? Would we make it in time to the start town of Saint-Paul-Trois-Chateaux? Could our legs climb the 15 kilometers up the Col de Galibier to see the most exciting stage ever, and back down again after? Could we park our playhouse on wheels so it wouldn’t tip over the side of a mountain?
We were kids on an adventure and the whole of France was our playground. And the best part was that we had a giant tribe of fellow playmates, all of us draped in our countries flags, all of us wearing ridiculous costumes, all of us jovial and cheery and best friends of the Tour. It was a heady week of hiking and cheering and driving and eating and laughing and yelling at the top of our lungs, “Allez! Allez! Alez!” So bless these athletes who peddle with passion. And bless all of us who find opportunity after opportunity after opportunity to embrace fun, to go with it, to feel as free as we did when we were kids on a Saturday of play.