Leaves changing is the harbinger of good rides. Embro on the legs, and chill in the air, we departed to ride into the Brushies. At the general store, we ran into some people we knew from the old Paceline days...it's been noted that no one can escape the mafia. Who knew that Mark would be hiding in Amish country trying to escape us...the mafia did. Dude can almost pull of mid-eighties Harrison Ford. (I hope someone gets this reference, it took me forever to think of something even remotely funny for this circumstance). Four hours into the ride and my legs were shot, like, Johnny, the horse went lame and there's no vet to be found shot.
View from the top!
Mitch, work it, Hopkins on the swinging bridge at Linney Mill.
Amish bakery fried apple pie.
Random road in the Brushies.
up Windy Gap.
Chick-fil-a made everything better. And now, burrito time. Later, cake time. Even later, ice cream time.
No comments:
Post a Comment