Nothing welded, nothing gained.
This is on the fork of The Yankee’s bike, mounted to the back of the car, with my bike behind it. There’s something comforting about those little wavy lines of internationally crafted workmanship. If you stare enough into and under the paint coat you’ll see all manner of things, including how this bike is going to get you over that hill.
We’re in Georgia today, spending the night in a hotel about a half hour away from where The Yankee is competing in an aquabike race tomorrow morning. She’ll do 600 meters of an open water swim and then a 14.3 mile bike ride.
I did the ride today. We drove it, and then I pedaled it. And then we drove it again, so I could tell her things about the road and the hills and the trouble spots. I am now, officially, a scout.
After you dive out of the state park where the race starts, wrapping yourself around some curves mildly approaching technical, you find yourself looking up two miles worth of hills. The second hill being somewhat exciting because you hang a right and keep climbing. After that there are plenty of rollers. I found a lot of 30 mile per hour sections of the course. She’s going to have a great ride tomorrow.
But that means we have to get up very, very early. So … goodnight. And wish her luck tomorrow!
