
I woke up Sunday with a plan to ride a 50 mile loop in Eastover and Hopkins. Things were going well 2 hours in. No traffic, cloudy and plenty of water. Then I took a wrong turn. Well, I could've backtracked a few miles but I thought I could pick my way through the labyrinthine back alleys. No such luck. I got super-lost for some reason. I asked a kindly looking fellow for directions but was rebuffed. Perhaps he didn't like the cut of my jib (sic. my spandextual super-bulge which awakened long-dormant feelings suppressed from his younger days) or the crook of my raised brow? I soldiered on. It became warm then downright hot.

(A pig mail box. It displeases me)

(A slanty shanty. Its mere presence soured my humors.)

(Mimi at 100 percent concentration prepares herself for a post-ride high five. She's such a lil' trooper!!!)
