Beauty day. +9 degrees Celsius (that's 48.2 in Farenheit Yanks).
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. . . sometimes it don't.
The wind can be a bugger sometimes.
Skates.
Don't know if someone found them or forgot them.
Only saw four or five other riders out Saturday. Two roadies actually acknowledged us, one even waved. I place not being accepted by the roadie masses squarely on Curvy Butt's bodacious shoulders for wearing grey socks . . . everyone know that roadies don't wear grey socks when they ride. Pfffttt.
2 comments:
Good on ya, I got in a 70 k'er Sunday and a 40k'er Sat, Sunday's ride was embelished by a very heavy mid ride breakfast buffet which made it impossible to get down in the drops as I fought the massive headwind and the urge to regurgitate my gorgeous bacon, and sausage filled shmorgashbord, I prevailed on both counts...
Clap-clap-clap . . . I salute you. Filling your face, with bacon nonetheless, and getting on the bike bursting at the seems . . . I look up to you sir. Clap-clap-clap.
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