Note to self: after a month of not riding any more than a few miles for errands and such, don’t try to keep an 18mph pace over 25 miles. “Oh my aching _____ (please insert body part of choice here)!” Now, having said that, boy it felt good to be out on the bike again yesterday. I can’t wait to go again.
I rode a local rail trail that I’ve ridden a number of times before. It dead-ends on a country road at the county line, about a mile or two south of a small town called Verona, which is little more than a cross-roads. Having never done so before, I decided to ride into town just to check it out. The town’s centerpiece, it turns out, is a sweet little ball diamond, complete with concrete bleachers behind home plate with “his” and “hers” bathrooms underneath. I’m thinking it would be a grand way to spend an evening this summer, to ride my bike out there, grab a hot dog or ice cream from the concession stand, and catch a few innings from the fence. What bliss. (Note to self #2: Why can’t I ever remember to take pictures?)