Football Weather. You don’t have to be a fan to know what it means.
If it happened in a movie I would be rolling my eyes, but, as if on cue the wet, moldy summer air was pushed away by a dry, cool breeze on the opening night of the FSU football season.
Yes, we kicked their obnoxious south Florida asses.
What this really means though, is that the off season is coming to a close and it is time to pull out the longbow and stroke for the far and distant corners of the land. No more time trialing around the hamster wheel. S’quatch and I left a couple of the fellas standing at the 10 mile mark and rode off into the Sunday morning sun. 5 hours in the saddle. 35ish miles of trail, field, road, and catwalks.
We baptized ourselves in the well of a Cypress tree, on hands and knees in a honey-colored stream. We learned that banana spiders are not poisonous.
Although cramped and exhausted, it was back in the saddle yesterday for another 18 miles of crosstown, traffic dodging, singletrack fun.
It is just too pretty. Ride every day, sleep when you’re dead.
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