Self Incrimination

     Every time I leave for a road ride my favorite person asks to be careful and reminds me not to ride too close to cars. And I always keep the dangers of this sport Lycra close, however, I also believe that if you ride scared you are much more likely to end up as someone's decorative hood ornament. The other day I was going on our usual weeknight Fro Yo run and she even threw out the "don't call me until you're off the bike," precaution. With that said — here I am riding alongside Highway 17 during a recent group ride using my iCamera to snap a photo of my friend Chad, who come to find out didn't have his rear skewer fastened. 

The shoulder of Highway 17 (PandP)

     This certainly isn't my normal route home from the Santa Cruz Mountains, but it just so happened that I was riding in the back of the peloton most of the day on a ride where there was little-to-no collaborating on which direction to ride. Whoever was leading seemed to just choose whatever ridiculous direction they wanted. Fortunately we were only on the highway for about a quarter mile, and it's a good thing this guy wearing a hydration pack never made his way to the front.

Thirsty guy (PandP)

If he had we probably would have leaned our bikes against some trees and hiked up the nearest deer trail to his swimming hole. This guy is probably my favorite cyclist of all time, especially in the
Fall and Winter when he shows up to ride with his Mag Light taped to the handlebars of his mountain bike.
     It ended up being a great ride and at just a little under 40 miles my legs weren't too damaged for the rest of the weekend. I am glad it went so well, and now I'll have a fond memory of what my second to last bike ride was like because I am pretty sure all of my bikes will be sold within the next few days once my favorite person reads this post. At least I'll have more time to blog.