It is tough to come back after a week of radio silence and have nothing to report other than a series of ever-dropping golf scores. No bike rides. None. I could tell you about the wedge shot that rattled in the cup from 60 yards (it came out)but you don’t come here to read about golf.
Golf is, for the record, a cruel master- just like the bike.
The 4th of July is upon us, and the corn is sure to be head high by then. The summer is slipping by me in a flurry of work trips, piles of laundry, and deadlines. “Excuse me, waiter,this is not what I ordered”.
Send this one back to the kitchen please.