It's been a weird week. The family is gone: the boy is in Montana with my old man and the girls are in Florida with their mom. It would be the perfect week for a bike ride, anywhere. Alas, I'm grounded. Mostly because my wife is appropriately concerned about my durability since my 600km DNF and also because the ankle is still tender. I should be working around the house, but today I had Court and then went to the office to tie up some loose ends.
I should be riding. Yesterday, I found myself getting misty reading online accounts of others' glorious adventures in California, Colorado and France. And today I cornered a cross-country cyclist in Farmington, MO, whose bike I saw propped up against a laundromat. I raced in and said "You're the guy with the bike!" The poor kid, I was so busy peppering him with questions, I didn't even catch his name. He had come from Oregon and was headed to Virginia. Lucky guy. Tomorrow, I'm going for a ride, even if it's only ten miles.
My brother called tonight from California where it is very hot. Maybe this picture will keep him cool. Thanks for the call, buddy.
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