AUG 31, 2009 – 12:00AM

Gosh, I’m an awful parent.

Earlier this summer, I dragged my family to the Lenexa Midnight Bike Ride. I had a ball when I did the ride in 2008, and though the venue changed from downtown Lenexa to Shawnee Mission Park this year, I thought I’d introduce my kids to the joys of riding with a bunch of other folks in the middle of the night.

It turned out to be the most miserable experience I’ve had on two wheels.

Tears were shed, fits thrown. Curses were invoked and chunks blown.

I vowed never to return to that ride at that venue again and swore I’d never expose my kids to such an awful experience again.

Yet, when I happened upon a reference to what must be the granddaddy of midnight bike rides — the St. Louis Moonlight Ramble — I eventually concocted a way to get my wife and kids to the Gateway City for a chance at redemption.

The Moonlight Ramble, held annually around the full moon in August, routinely draws 10,000-plus cyclists for a family-friendly (yeah, I’ve heard that before) pedal around downtown St. Louis. This year was the 46th edition.

Through the kindness of a co-worker who oh-so-graciously picked up my desk shift Saturday night, I was able to throw together a hasty weekend get-away. We left Saturday morning, drove semi-leisurely across Missouri, kicked back in the hotel for a few hours, ate at Leclede’s Landing, then headed off for the ride’s start/finish line/after-ride party spot around 10 p.m. Saturday.

Organizers expected between 10,000 and 15,000 riders, and I can attest there were a bunch of folks there. They rode on bikes and trikes and even a few handcycles. There were tandems and recumbents, sleek carbon racers and vintage steel steeds. I spied a camel bike, a dragon bike, a penny farthing (an old-fashioned bike, with one huge front wheel and a tiny rear wheel), tallbikes, short bikes and everything in between.

Though the ride was supposed to begin at the Witching Hour, it seemed about a half hour behind schedule, and because it’s dangerous to unleash so many riders on the city streets at the same time, we set off in waves. Since we were toward the back of the throng, my kids started to grouse a bit. Heads rested on handlebars, and I feared a repeat of the Lenexa debacle.

Finally, with a revolt dangerously likely, we finally set out around 1 a.m. for a lovely, albeit unseasonably chilly, jaunt through downtown St. Louis.

There were two routes — one seven miles, the other 14 — over closed-to-traffic roads.

Bar-goers cheered the throng, and passers-by offered encouragement. One group of rowdies took its party to the curb, propped one end of a board on a pony keg and encouraged cyclists to launch off the makeshift ramp. (Luckily, my son was past it before he recognized it as a launch pad.)

Some of the riders, obviously, weren’t especially comfortable in the saddle, and there were some dicey moments as folks wobbled and tried to steer clear of each other. We happened upon one accident that required an ambulance.

But the overall vibe was friendly and festive.

At ride’s end, shortly after 2 a.m., we rolled back to the start/finish line and checked out the afterparty.

My kids — whose attitude did a 180 as soon as the wheels started spinning — were rewarded with the ride’s signature end-of-ride freebie: MoonPies.

Here’s where that bad parenting comes in again, not that I let my kids nosh on one of those sugary gutbombs at 2 in the morning, but because I somehow allowed them to reach the ages of 8 and 11 without having had one before.

There also was free beer for the adults, though I’m sad to say we were limited to one free beer per trip to the stand. I tried to snag one for myself and my wife, but was told I’d have to circle back around for another round. Now, a clever guy could, say, take a couple of freebies and pour ’em in, say, an empty water bottle. Then he could, say, repeat with another empty water bottle, then put ’em both in his messenger bag. Then he could hide another in his helmet, bolt another as he stood in line, then walk out with his “one” beer. I’m not saying I did or I didn’t, mind you. I’m just sayin’.

Anyway … between the free beer and MoonPies and glow-in-the-dark T-shirts, the swag alone was nearly enough to justify the impulsive trip to St. Louis.

The fact I at least partway redeemed myself in my family’s eyes put it over the top.