Didn’t I point out the splendiferous hues of autumn yesterday?
Because the seasons change the fo–LOOK OUT, JORTS COMING THROUGH!
It’s the brand new “In your left.”
Jarring, isn’t it?
Oh, and would you have a look at that, I received a brand new bag!
See that? I didn’t must resort to the Electrical Techno-Paranoia in spite of everything:
The bag is “out of inventory,” however if you’re me nothing is out of inventory:
Let’s simply say I’ve received connections within the Waxed Canvas Mafia.
See, you’ve received your Common Mafia:
Your Velvet Mafia:
And your Waxed Canvas Mafia:
I in all probability shouldn’t say any extra otherwise you’re liable to search out me chopped up and stuffed right into a HappiSack:
[Photo: The Waxed Canvas Mafia]
When you see a type of bouncing alongside on the OCA with a single foot hanging out of it you’ll comprehend it’s me inside:
As for my new bag, it might be too small to hide a physique, however It’s precisely what I would like–simply sufficiently big for snacks, gloves, and that type of factor:
Or possibly a e-book and a few toys once I’m taking youngsters to the park on Columbus Unmentionable Day:
And sure, that e-book does include biking references:
After all the constable would have been fantastic if he have been driving a Rivendell, a motorcycle so steady even a Scottie couldn’t knock you off it:
My infatuation with this bike stays as exuberant because the foliage, and it’s at dwelling on all the pieces from easy roads:
To terrain of about this diploma of roughness:
So do you name this a “path?” Or is it technically a gravel highway surfaced with extraordinarily massive gravel?
Both approach, something past that on the Roaduno and I assume you’re doing what these spoiled Gen-Zers immediately name “underbiking.”
Talking of so-called underbiking, you might recall I did some in Vermont on the Roaduno’s polar reverse, George Plimpton’s Y-Foil, a.ok.a. The Charity Journey Destroyer, a.ok.a. The Pumpkin Spice Nightmare:
Within the feedback on yesterday’s submit, which addressed the topic of yielding, there was some dialogue of gravel roads and large vehicles. As an inveterate city-slicker, once I discover myself on a gravel highway, I in fact simply assume it exists fully for the sake of quaintness, and that I can depend on it being comparatively motor vehicle-free as a bonus:
“Wow, have a look at all that pristine gravel!,” I believed to myself. “And no one else is even driving on it!” However what I quickly realized is that not all gravel roads are created equal, and that a few of them are closely utilized by farmers. Furthermore, one of many gravel roads I selected was simply such a thoroughfare:
Whereas the drivers exhibited no outward hostility, I’m certain they have been considering to themselves, “What’s this asshole doing?” Anyway, all of that is to say I duly moved apart and dismounted when essential, although looking back I in all probability ought to have made a video and ranted about how rural roads want extra protected bike lanes. Regardless, I made it to the ferry alive and intact:
And I didn’t even must squeeze a boob!
That will or will not be a win, relying on the way you have a look at it.
