Today's route choices were 37 miles, which turned out to be 40; 65 miles, which turned out to be 68; or 100 miles, which .... you guessed it ..... turned out to be 103. Or so says the skinny girl climbing the last hill with me, right before I stuck a hot poker in her eye. I mean her tire.
Rozmo and I chose the 68-mile route, mainly because she didn't have a gun big enough to make me do the century. The name of the century ride was "Assault on Dick's Hill," and I've learned enough over the years to know I don't want to ride anything with "assault" or "hill" in the title. I also remember a time BEFORE I learned those things when Katydid and I attempted said assault. I distinctly remember throwing my bike in a ditch and saying, "I'm not going anymore."
The ride was really good. It was overcast most of the day, so I didn't even have to wear sunglasses until about mile 46 or so. We rode along for a while with a guy and girl I've known for years. Rozmo was chatting with Fred, and I was talking to Debi while we rode. That made the miles fly by, and then an amazing thing happened. I rode off and left Debi in my dust. Please alert the media.
My average would have been 15 mph, except Rozmo and I took a detour right there at the end and rode into town. I needed earplugs, and Rozmo needed the nice round number of 70 miles. Hey Rozmo - look at the 6 and the 8. They're both ROUND!!!!! Sixty-eight miles would STILL have been a round number!!
Rozmo went to her parents' house, and I came into the cool comfort of the RV. It was wonderful having my own shower. I took a nap, texted back and forth with Hubby and the Warrior Princess, ate some of the three hundred pounds of pasta salad I brought. I just had Froot Loops and Corn Pops for dessert. Now I'm waiting for the Braves game to come on, to which I can only LISTEN, since the unfortunate demise of our RV television.
We are planning to ride the 40-miler tomorrow. I hope the weather cooperates again.