When legs, heart and lungs are all in sync and the bike perfectly tuned, the euphoric hum of the road leaves you with a sensation of flying over the asphalt. I like those days. Today was not one of them. Every, “shut up legs,” was met with an equally powerful, not family friendly response from my quads. I gave up on pushing at all and
Sometimes it is about the numbers. I was so close to 50 miles as I got closer to home that I couldn’t help but throw on a few miles. The problem is that all the roads are torn up or covered in mud because they were recently torn up. After dodging the junk I scored an extra mile and crossed the 50 barrier. Then I
I’ve been recovering this last week which means sleeping and generally living in a foggy haze. Fresh air and a nice slow ride helped to clear my brain a bit. Still, only a bit since this virus leaves you feeling unable to push hard. For the next few days I imagine I’ll be lollygagging along the highways. The ride – Paradise The bike – Time
Coming into Paradise I stopped at the stop sign to wait for an oncoming car. I’m on a bike so I barely take up any space at all on the far right. Lucky for me I don’t unclip. Instead I hover and wait my turn. The white mini van turns my direction. When I say turns my direction they turn straight at me as in
Passing through Hyrum, Utah the air is frequently thick with unpleasant smells as it is the home of a large slaughter house. Proceed south from Hyrum to Paradise and the air changes to cut hay. Keep on going and make the climb up raspberry hill to where Weeks raises their crop of the luscious little berry and you can’t gulp in the air fast enough.