Sunday, June 18, 2017

hot, hilly father's day ride

I HAVE to start this blog post this way: After the break, and then after passing the "Road Closed" sign, and then the first stretch of dirt road, we got to the hill that was tough enough that I had to get off and walk the last couple of tenths of a mile to the top.

Now, Laura OLPH's eyes will roll right out of her head when she sees that; she'll point out that the closed road has been preserved as a bikeway, and the dirt is just growing over the paving. And she is, of course, right. But that doesn't excuse either the wicked hill, or the OTHER dirt road (although she did warn us that some of these roads would be new to her, and some might be dirt; I THINK the dirt road was Dogwood Drive). Plus, it makes a better story my way.

This is the ride that was scheduled for yesterday, but weather and good sense intervened; Laura rescheduled for today. Six of us started, but I only got good pictures at the start of Andrew and Tom:



About seven miles in, one of the folks who had started begged off; he'd done a ride yesterday and was out late. So we were five. Along the way:



Weather predictions had been for a possible thunderstorm (I took precautions with my now-beloved leather Selle Anatomica saddle), but the day got brighter (if more humid) as we went on. We got up to Clinton, where I took too many pictures.






The kid below was one of several looking to net (I think) frogs.


The wall below appears to be an art project. You probably can't see it in the pic below, but someone has chalked, "Love is one way." There's a not-unpleasant ambiguity about that, whether, for example, it's one of many ways, or if it's like a one-way street.


If you go to Clinton often enough with a camera, you HAVE to take the picture below. It's a RULE.



We left Clinton, and headed to a bikeway that was a closed road... oh, yeah, you know that part.

We got back in due order and without incident (although every uphill felt like an insult after that demanding one). I assuaged my self-pity with an artisan ice-cream float at O Wow Cow, and came home to do the chores and the laundry.

See our progress here (I had some Garmin wackiness, so the ride page cut off the first mile or so).

And the crankset is already off the bike, awaiting the arrival of the new bottom bracket, to replace the other new bottom bracket. Sheesh.

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