Late into the night we went for a stealth ride on the Legacy Trail before we retired to our asylums for the night. Three men in hammocks, four in two tents. Meeker snored or maybe it was the quasi-Canadian or maybe it was me. But temps dropped to 42 degrees and I did get a bit chilly. But I was never miserable.
We made coffee, eggs and oatmeal. I assumed that the pseudo-Canadian would have had some bacon or pancakes and maple syrup. He didn't. I think I saw him eating some Chex Mix. I was shocked and, to be completely honest, disappointed. I felt he betrayed his heritage. But we gave our bodies warmth and nourishment, packed up our schtuph and headed back to work for a Friday funday. Not a bad way to spend an evening.
In attendance were those listed below:
I in my kerchief and Disc Trucker.
Presley was on his old rigid Giant MTB (one of the coolest vintage MTBs, IMHO).
Brendan on his Kona Dew.
Dave rode my naked Troll outfitted with some Kenda K-Rads for smoother road rolling.
Noah pedaled his custom Long Haul Trucker and carried his own gear like a boss.
Meeker in his Toyota hybrid.
Jordan riding shotgun in the Prius but joined us on the night ride on his Trek. It's made of kevlar or carbon or adamantium or something. But it's light and fast and the shoes he wears with it go clickety clack when he walks.
Get out there.