There will be more on Manny later, for the couple of you keeping up with that new development here at the BRC. For now though, I have a bike ride to talk about so what the hell, for old time’s sake!

It is too late to prepare for San Felasco in any true sense. Muscles don’t grow that fast, and fat knows how to dig in and hang on for the Christmas season does it not? The only choice I have now is to simulate the horrible conditions I will likely be experiencing on that fine day in the near future.

Knowing I would ride this morning I stayed up half the night at S’quatch’s Solstice party. (Solstice is hippy for Christmas -fyi) I had a glorious time singing and smoking cigars and drinking wine around the campfire.

Then I skipped breakfast.

Then I didn’t wear enough clothes.

Then I didn’t bring any fresh water, just the swill in the Camelbak from the last ride I took, which was in the late nineties practically.

Then we bushwhacked, got cold, wet, and miserable.

Logged in about 25 miles, a mix of road, trail, swampmarsh, and urban wasteland needle exchange sites.

I think I’m ready.


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