We had a 26-mile ride today. I forgot to take pictures:
So that’s the front fork of the bike in the house. Anyway, four categorized climbs, and I descended at 41.9 miles per hour.
I forgot to take pictures because I snuck off the front of the group in the first neighborhood. There are two stop signs through there and I figured someone would come catch me at the second one, at least, given that it has a weird little climb involved. But when I got there, I was still alone, and then I caught a break with oncoming traffic at the next two intersections.
By then I was off the front and apparently out of sight. I figured on some of those climbs someone would catch up, but it turns out most of them had forgotten about me. I rode the entire ride out front and by myself and made it back to the starting point all alone. I’m seldom ever strong enough for a good breakaway, but I guess the timing was right and the makeup of the group was all wrong to catch me. It was a great feeling. I’ll coast on that feeling for a good while, I’m sure.
