We would ride our 10-speeds to the base of Kaaterskill Falls, looking upward at the descending, cascading double waterfall.
Our legs, trembling with growing muscle from the rigorous windy asphalt climb, balked at what our minds were saying.
But we would lock our bikes to a tree and enter the woods, cherishing the moss-grown stones and tall growths of pine and birch.
The circular path around the falls was narrow and moist from the fall's spray, and we would move slowly and carefully.
Inside the cavernous falls, the water rushed with a cathedral roar, silencing the birds or any conversation.
It was a peaceful interlude, an athletic accomplishment, a perfect way to use a few precious hours of a summer day.