We left for Maine with three bicycles on the back of the car. One for him, one for her, one for any house guest who cared to ride along. There were other modest recreational plans for our three week vacation on the coast. Twice-weekly yoga at a local community center, a little kayaking, a little hiking maybe, and certainly walking the hilly streets of Bayside and admiring its gingerbread-house architecture.

That was all before my wife's broken ankle. On the second day of the trip.

By the end of the vacation, only one bike had been taken out. Only one of us had paddled the Penobscot. Mount Battie remained unconquered. And the yoga mat remained coiled and unused in a closet.