"I don't think much of a man who is not wiser today than he was yesterday." -- Abraham LincolnHad he survived another 148 years without being shot in the head, Lincoln may well hold me in some esteem, because I'm definitely wiser today than yesterday. I've always said you learn something new everyday, but maybe this is only the nicest way I can admit being wrong, dead wrong, in an earlier post when I declared Tues/Thurs rides to only come in two varieties -- HL and NHL. Apparently there is a third version. But more on that later.
Before we get to this third version of the beast into which our pleasant levee ride of the nascent years of this century has transmogrified, I need to amend or at least supplement my earlier description of the harrowing nature of barreling down a darkened levee through traffic with a dozen other cyclists. To the darkness, to the huge trucks, to the wandering pedestrians leading big dogs on long leashes, and to the oncoming bikes sporting halogen headlights, please add dense, wet, claustrophobic fog -- 10 solid miles of it.
Around the country club I saw a rider dropping back fast in the other lane. When he came within the three-foot range of visibility, I could see it was Randy. Somebody asked him if he was alright. Randy responded, "This is stupid." I certainly couldn't argue with the unassailable logic in his statement, but nevertheless, the barreling continued.
On a related matter, I think Vega must have had an equipment problem because I didn't see him at the other end, but the group came upon him riding east near the Big Dip.
Back at the playground HL stated: "You know if you take out the surges, this ride is very pleasant."
Said I,"All we have to do is get those cabrones to quit surging."
"I know exactly what you mean, David," said HL.
|By the time we were heading back to town visibility was appreciably improved.|