This weekend I chased The Yankee for 42 miles. She started before me and I had to catch her. I knew the route and I knew she had a big head start. That was the game we played. A game we used to play when I could catch her more often. It took me about 31 miles to find her.
I’m not sure which I liked more, the mile where I averaged 22.6 or the earlier mile where I paced 23 miles per hour. I can do that on the right terrain, just long enough, for about two-and-a-half-minutes, to wonder what it would be like to do that over an entire ride, no matter the terrain. Terrain and topography being relative terms for where we ride. My app says I climbed only 1,700 feet during that ride.
I know people at Delta State. That campus had already had a weird and tough enough year before a senseless tragedy such as this. Later in the day we learned those particular people were safe.
A review, something I wrote:
Unless you are a Ricardo Louis or Chris Davis completist, you probably can skip the new “Miracles on the Plains,” which does not fit into the group of excellent documentaries. There are several reasons.
It goes on like that for about 635 more words.
