T'was breezy, warm, and wonderful on Lake Shore Drive that Sunday morning. Lake Michigan could not be more placid, nor could the sky be bluer as wispy clouds slipped toward a red-orange sun.

There was too much to look at! Too much going on!

One of literally thousands of bikers, I traveled south on the wide boulevard. Across the median, thousands more sped north.

My Trek comfort bike had a wide seat and a wicker basket. To my left, my daughter rode a pink Schwinn, grinning ear-to-ear like she did years before as a child.

"Can you believe this, Karen?" I hollered over the din of spinning tires. "Not a car in sight!"

We cruised along in a swarm of slower bikers in the far right lane. In the four other south-bound lanes I saw every possible kind of bike: tandems with Dad/daughter or Mom/son rambled by; bikes linked to covered strollers zipped along a little quicker than us; elite racing bikes with ram's head handle bars sped along in the far left passing lanes, many having already completed their first circuit. The vast majority of bikers, like me, rode multiple-geared bikes, but never shifted.

We didn't have to. The terrain of the southern route was so flat one needed only to pedal evenly.

Like so many others, Karen and I had arrived at Grant Park just before the start of the Hike. After she paid for our registration (mine was an early Father's Day present), we pinned our numbers to our t-shirts.

"Which way, Daddy? South or north? Each leg is seven miles one-way."

I chose south as that was my favorite segment of Lake Shore Drive. On our right we passed mostly green space until we'd ridden several miles. Then we could see the taller buildings of the University of Chicago. To our left, however, were various marinas, then the peninsula which the Adler Planetarium and Shedd Aquarium occupied. And vast expanses of open water!

The first seven miles went quickly, and we came to the Museum of Science and Industry where we stopped for water and refreshments. I welcomed the sight of that 1893 World's Fair landmark as my legs were getting rubbery.

Our respite was short, but I revived quickly. Soon we were off again, biking north this time. My helmet provided scant protection from the now-glaring sun, but a breeze off the lake kept me comfortable as we passed Soldier's Field and wended our way through the Drive's famous curves.

We paused periodically to appreciate the changing vistas. Nothing is comparable to Chicago's skyline, but seeing it as an approaching bike rider is an overwhelming experience. One minute you're only conscious of seawalls and thrashing surf. Suddenly, you're gawking at dozens of cloud-scraping buildings. Surely a Kodak moment, but I'd forgotten my camera.

Onward! Northward! As we passed Navy Pier, the gigantic Ferris Wheel seemed taller and closer than it did from a car.

Perhaps the journey seemed less scenic now because I was tiring rapidly. I struggled four or five more miles to Bryn Mawr Drive where we followed the parade as it turned back south. Condos loomed on our right. Then another fabulous view of the skyline from a different angle.

The last leg of the trip proved grueling. I hadn't expected to pedal so hard up that last long hill (we'd flown down it) before we finally reached Grant Park.

There we locked our bikes to some trees, and hiked through crowds of milling bikers now on foot. Why did no one else seem exhausted? I followed Karen as she meandered around the countless tents and booths. At one booth, we received a free t-shirt for finishing the Hike. Again we sought the free refreshments and water served at long tables and greeted dozens of fellow bikers who seemed like anything but strangers now.

How friendly everyone was! Smiles. High fives for finishing. Sometimes even a hug. And much laughter. Was it merely because we'd all shared a fabulous adventure? Maybe, but I vowed to Bike the Drive again next year. And I did!