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I don't have another oldie to post tonight, but for my evening ride I decided to take out a bike from my past. I can't even remember the last time I rode this bike, but it was from a time in my life where I had more adrenaline than brain cells. Today, I'm sure I have even fewer, but I at least make a attempt to fully utilize the ones that remain. Earlier today I had a phone conversation with one of my old trail friends, and I'm sure that is what possessed me to take this one out tonight. I'm also aware I looked like a complete goofball from anyone who saw me riding this evening.
Back when this bike was built, my riding style was a little more aggressive than it is today. I got to tell you though, getting out on this beast had me hitting curbs a little faster than I have been. I was also looking to take those little drops instead of riding around them. This tank rode like a Cadillac, and tired me out much faster than the bikes I have been riding recently.
It was fun, but not something I want to do everyday anymore. Next post I will be back on a oldie.
Went to go for a long bike ride with a writing break and discovered my laptop was MIA when I got there. In a panic, I drove back to look for it on the road to no avail. Four books not backed up in a while since I lost the cable to my external drive, the design for a boat build, photos I'd rather not some weird stranger see, and all kinds of information that could be used in nefarious ways. I put out notices with a fairly substantial reward and as my life was flashing before me (it seemed stuck for a while on the scene of a couch), a savior called with my computer and I had it back within the hour and he wouldn't even take any money for it. May God, Buddha, Athena, etc. bless that man because, though I had an abbreviated ride to the beach, I stopped short of riding straight into the water to a liquid demise (or burning everything down and disappearing like Kaiser Soze). Appropriately, this is Dead Horse Beach.
And some strange woman was setting up a memorial to someone in a parking space across the street. I am thankful it wasn't for me, though I'm not sure my people would be so willing to publicly mark my demise, though if it were my sister doing so, it would be a bunch of Yankee Candles that would fool everyone into thinking someone baked fresh blueberry muffins leading to much disappointment when they merely encountered a photo of me.
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