Our youngest granddaughter pedaled her bike down the riverside trail and called, “You can’t go fast like me.” (She was right about that.) During brief rest stops, she picked wild violets, admired an Australian shepherd who passed us, and marveled at a deer who posed behind his foliage camouflage. Though we chose shady paths, hot summer air soon slowed our pace. I suggested we return to the car for water, but our little biker wanted to continue. Ten minutes later, when her face began to resemble a ripe tomato, I insisted we take a break. On the way to the…