Ride # 55: Another Day, Another Summit

Thursday, May 29, 4:00 in the afternoon

I snatched Time from the unyielding day. This is an impressionistic ramble. It was Thursday afternoon, I was working from home, I had a serious DEADLINE to meet, and I met it. I am writing in the past tense because I am writing the day after this ride occurred. I am in a time warp. I am neither heavier nor lighter than I was a day earlier. I am the same shad.

The thing is, I wasn't feeling very motivated, very energetic. I felt vaguely sore in the hips and the quads and I had to fight myself not to use that as an excuse not to ride. Feeling achy, I tried to talk myself into not riding, but the Little Argentine on my shoulder kept whispering in my ear "you'll feel fine once you get out on the road, once you start pedaling."

The little fucker was right.

When I finally garnered my forces, geared up (much yipping over what to wear because it was not a warm day, low 60s and increasingly overcast, possible showers), and set off, I quickly grew elated. YES! Of course. RIDE for heaven's sake. No, ride for SHAD's sake. That's what I did. And though a dash for the mountain seemed unlikely, I let the ride unfold as it would. Climbing with ease and comfort into the Sterling Hills, the debate over whether to assault the mountain or not quickly became irrelevant. OF COURSE I was going to the mountain top.

Most of the roads leading to the mountain are fine, albeit steep. Hobbs Rd on the other side of rt. 31 is a bitch but it's short and it's been essentially cleared of sand by now (either by design or by watery run-off, I'm not sure). But after Hobbs comes Beaman and Wilson, both moderately slopped. Off Wilson, you pick up Mirick Rd, a real sweet road through hardwood forest with sporadic rich people's houses on either side. But off Mirick, you turn onto Pine Hill Rd and that's where it gets really dicey. That road is a mess, a sand lot, a rutted, debris-strewn narrow path that just happens to be seriously fucking steep so not only do you have to lash yourself like a jockey lashing his steed but you have to be careful not to stand up at the wrong spot and spin your wheels in the ubiquitous sand. Climbing the short and very steep Pine Hill Rd is a total challenge, particularly after savaging yourself for close to an hour to GET to it.

Left onto Pine Hill Rd, a steep climb on cracked sandy tarmac

The good thing is, when you get to the top of Pine Hill Rd, you've basically arrived at the base of the mountain. Then it's time to do some CLIMBING!

No rabbits to slay this afternoon, just me and the road UP and so UP I go. At a fast clip. Not a strava personal record pace but pretty darn fast. Stats aside, I feel great in the ascent. It's all so good I want to cry. But I don't. I shout instead. FUCKIN' YEAH! It feels good! It's a Thursday afternoon, I'm sailing free on my bicycle, I'm climbing an old granitic New England mountain and I feel STRONG doing so, and I know that when I get home, I'll eat BIG and take a shower and accept myself for who I am. This is the ZEN of it all and I realize that NOW is the only reality we know for sure.

Zen Summit

Ride Summary: 27 miles (43 K), 14.2 mph, KICKIN' it up the hills today, strong like a goat, comfortable in my skin. Strava Details.

Road Kill: A snake apocalypse day. I only photographed one but I saw five squashed garter snakes, three on the slopes of The Wachusett, two on the hills leading there.

One of five on the day

Memorial Day Weekend Denouement: The Trifecta, Ride # 54, Shad Roe A-Plenty

Monday, May 26, 2014
Memorial Day
1:00 PM

Yes! A long weekend trifecta. Coming into the weekend I'd had my doubts about riding possibilities (forecasts of rain for Saturday) but I'm heading out the other side with three rides, a lot of climbing, and almost 100 miles under the wheels. Spankin' it!

After yesterday's ferocious snarl in the rain and the 3,000+ feet of climbing, I considered not even going out today. Especially when around noon the skies clouded over with thickness, thunder echoed from the horizon, and spattery rain showers ensued for 30 minutes or so. But eventually higher thinner cloud cover rolled in pushing out the moisture-holding puff buckets and by 1:00 it was obvious that I could ride, fatigued legs notwithstanding. The streets dried out. A balmy wind arose, it was warm, almost tropic-style. Sweet!

I felt predictably leaden and sluggish at the outset but after a few miles I loosened up and started feeling BIG. I like when that happens. Uncooperative muscle groups stop protesting and join the fun. The road unwinds ahead. Shad goes.

Lunenburg hill top

Consider the options

So in the end, after a stoppage at the railroad tracks for the freight train to pass in Shirley Village, after I photographed the mileage sign waiting for the gate to open, after I'd thrashed my way across the last five miles when I was feeling the weekend's cumulative trifecta effort and after I struggled through the last few suburban neighborhoods of outer Lemonstar, I arrived back at the headquarters of Team I Shad where the Kitchen of Plenty awaited.

And here I digress. The food of the cycling warrior matters. There can be no cutting corners, either in the quality of the provisions or in the imagination of the chef. Organic only, please (meat, fruit, vegetables, everything). Absolutely fresh.

Further digression. I went provisioning early this morning during the cloudy, rainy time. Loaded up for the week with the Healthy Bounty. Meaning that post-ride the larder and fridge were full and that sating the ravenous shad was simply a matter of cooking.

Yes, cooking. The art of preparing food for consumption. If I do anything more than riding, it's cooking. Imbibe the irieness! "Eat food, mostly plants, not that much."

Cooking with imagination is more important than riding with a Dali heart and a Jackson Pollack pedal stroke.

So tonight's post-ride repast included sauteed shad roe with lemon, parsley, and a lemon caper butter baste. Grilled wild Panamanian swordfish. Grilled Hadley asparagus and grilled Vidalia onions heavily dusted with smoked Spanish paprika. Grilled Yukon gold potatoes. Cold potato salad (with red onions, chives, a moderate amount of mayo). And Heady Topper, that rare and near-unobtainable elixir from the state of Vermont. A pint of the canned goodness.

A note on eating shad roe: As leader of Team I Shad, it's incumbent upon me to manifest the zeal of the shad. How better prepare for that responsibility than by consuming hundreds of thousands of shad eggs? All those potential future shad rolled into one Shaddy Dubstoevsky. One human shad with the power of the Deep Ocean and the eclectic pull of the freshwater river.

A further note on the shad roe preparation (see earlier post "Performance-Enhancing Shad Roe"). Today's iteration eschewed bacon (a usual ingredient) and went for simple, straightforward flavors: lemon, capers, butter, garlic, salt, white wine, parsley. I also painted the lobes with an egg wash before pan frying.

The Transformation of Shad Into Shad

Shad roe lobes, before par-boiling
Heady Topper

Pour boiling water down the side of a bowl
until  the water subsumes the lobes
and seals the sacs

With the Niceness!
Butter, garlic, lemon, white wine

Team I Shad Training Meal
(From top, clockwise) Shad roe, swordfish,
Hadley asparagus, yukon gold potato,
Vidalia onion, potato salad
in the middle

Ride summary: 30 miles (48 K), 15 mph, rolling exurbia roads, houses, neighborhoods, little commuter towns (the "exurbs") 35 and 40 miles west of the Boston metropolitan area; orchards, woods, fields, houses, town commons. At the apex of the ride, when I turn and start the return route to Lemonstar, I'm riding into a considerable headwind. I deal with it. At various points of tired aggravation when the wind buffets me with what seems like spiteful force I shout "Fuck You!" to keep me focused and relentless.

Strava Details: Loop Through the Exurbs

Road Kill: Nothing fresh today. Occasional flattened grease spot crime scenes from days past.

Memorial Day Weekend: Ride #'s 52 & 53: Rabbit Hunting on the Slopes of The Wachusett; Downpours in the Princeton Hills

With the Dampness, Saturday morning
May 24

Memorial Day Weekend is a big deal here in the land of the free and the home of the brave. For most Americans it means a day off from work Monday, backyard cookouts, American flags, and parades. Oh yeah, and veterans. The obligatory photographs of Arlington National Cemetery will appear on the websites of major news outlets. War inna' Babylon.

For me, I Shad, the prospect of a three day weekend, whether it's Memorial Day or Labor Day, means riding and eating BIG. So far, as I compose this entry mid-way through Sunday afternoon and post ride #53 (an epic storm-lashed Wachusett summit ramble, more on that to follow), I've notched two rides and eaten amazing Italian food in Waltham.

So, to the details. Ride #52, Saturday morning after the rain stopped, was a spirited but brief Sholan Loop. It actually hadn't been in the cards at all because the morning was supposed to be rainy but then it cleared by 9:00 AM or so and it occurred to me that I could actually sneak in a quick pedal. Doing so was particularly important because ND and I had reservations at La Campania, a fine Italian restaurant in Waltham, MA that we've both been meaning to try for more than a decade but have never gotten around to doing so. Until Saturday. I knew there's be pasta involved, and wine, and bread, and olive oil, and who knows what else? So getting out for the quick 1 hour loop was, if nothing else, a psychological cushion that would allow me to indulge without self-recrimination.

Ride Summary: 18.5 miles (29 K), 16.3 mph (firing!), cool, damp, overcast. No road kill to report. A straight hard power pedal with limited time. Strava stats.

Sunday morning, May 25
warmer than yesterday, brighter
sun promises

There was more time for riding today, Sunday, the midpoint of the weekend. The entire day was mine, though I didn't need it all. I just needed a few hours to make an assault on The Wachusett. As always, getting to the base of the climb involved plenty of climbing.

Climbing out of Lemonstar's suburbs

The benign, sun-dappled road west

Let's be clear. There are many approaches to the mountain when you start out as I do from near the center of Lemonstar. Different routes into the Sterling and Princeton Hills allow for more or less climbing, more or less mileage; it's a choice of plenty.

But inevitably you arrive at the Mount Wachusett visitor's center and parking lot and the beginning of Summit Rd. All routes of mountain access coalesce here; if you're riding to the top, you're passing through the Park entrance. For my purposes, I can get to the Park entrance from a few different directions. Today, for a change of pace, I decided to make the mighty climb up from the Westminster side. This route takes you past the Mt. Wachusett Ski Lodge at the mountain's true base. It's essentially starting at the bottom and climbing to the peak. And that's exactly what I did. And felt strong doing it.

The Westminster Approach

The Westminster Climb's Gradual Beginnings

Not only that but I enjoyed a bit of rabbit hunting on the way up.

Rabbit hunting, for a cyclist, for This cyclist, is when you espy one or more riders up the road from you and heading in the same direction you're going. Immediately, those riders become rabbits and you become the predator. You do everything in your power to hunt them down, reel them in, and dispatch them. So it proved to be today on the slopes of the mountain. In short order I reeled in two cyclists laboring slowly upward, obviously in early season form. The slaughter was quickly accomplished.

In no time, another rabbit appeared further ahead. We were on the last third of the summit climb and as soon as I saw him I knew that he, too, was in trouble. He lurched over his pedal stroke in a stand up position and his bike yawed left and right in what almost seemed like slow motion. I put my head down, focused on the yellow-revolving Mavic sticker on my front wheel hub, and powered upward. Just like that, I had a third rabbit in my game sack.

Reeling in the Final Rabbit

Then I was powering upward, lashing the last few hundred yards once again, veering left onto the final incline and hammering to the summit yet again.

Mount Wachusett Summit
May 25, 2014

I did not linger.

What I hadn't anticipated for the return journey was the arrival of huge thick gray rain clouds and the likelihood of rain. So there was nothing to be done but gamely pedal onward when the first huge splats of rain fell on the Mountain Rd. pavement I raced over. For ten or fifteen minutes, I thought that I might be able to outrun or out-maneuver what appeared to be a pretty significant cell of moisture. But that proved to be wishful thinking.

About 12 miles from home, the skies opened up. Heavy rain, torrential downpours. In no time I was completely soaked. There was nothing to be done but soldier through it. I had to take off my prescription sun glasses so splattered and useless did they become. Vision-wise that was okay but at certain points, particularly several downhill stretches, the rain lashed my face with stinging urgency and I had to squint and strain to see where I was going. Braking became difficult. I hurled down rivulets of run-off, the tarmac's surface undetermined. I hoped for the best.

Rivulets

And then I was racing back through the suburbs and the neighborhood streets of Lemonstar and the sun re-emerged and the rain storms were behind me and I was charging past Doyle Field and onto Ille Calle de Shad and just like that ride # 53 was in the books.

Ride Summary: 33 miles (53 K), 14.9 mph, a powerful average given all the climbing and the 10 miles of rain storm. No road kill. An epic climb up Wachusett. Today I felt LARGE. Strava Stats.

Inadvertent Video (Ride #51)

Not sure how it happened but in the process of trying to snap still photos with the ever-handy and easy-to-use Canon Elph 330 Power Shot, I managed to record by accident, during ride #51, the following video footage.

Ride # 51: In Between Showers

Thursday afternoon around 4:30
May 22
Damp and overcast

Another day when I almost didn't ride. It rained earlier, a heavy downpour around noon and then sporadically through early afternoon. Then it stopped and the streets began drying out. It was cool and overcast and I wore tights, a long sleeve and a short sleeve bike jersey, a windbreaker. Rain threatened, a thick gray sky heavy with moisture.

Forest Gnome

But it did not rain. The entire ride was dry. Even better, the thick moisture-heavy day pulsed with emerging greenery, whole roadways lined with fecund green, glorious to ride through.

Upper North Row Road

Approaching Sholan Farm
County Cork

Question I pondered at one point:

If you were having the time of your life and you knew you were having the time of your life, really KNEW it, and knew too that it would never again be as good as the time of your life you were having, would you approach things differently?

Ride Summary: 17.89 miles (28 K), 14.4 mph. No road kill. A few big crows. A few places that felt like Ireland.

Note that the Strava stats differ from those above because I got about 3 miles into the ride and realized I'd left my phone at home on the deck, exposed to potential rain. So I went back for it and only then was I able to start tracking the ride.

Ride # 50: To the Summit

I Shad and The General
Tuesday afternoon
May 20

Ride # 50 on the year! A milestone. Certainly the earliest in a "season" that I've notched this many rides before. With Jah's blessing and the grace of supernatural trolls, karma, Dharma, and dumb luck I'll manage to keep riding at this pace until the end of the year.

But best not think beyond the next ride. Or, in this case, Tuesday's ride which turned out to be a focused dash for the summit of Wachusett.

At first, leaving as late in the day as I did (5:15), I didn't think I had the time or energy to actually make a cheeky assault on the mountain but as I got a few miles into the ride and felt pretty strong I thought, why not go for it? So I did and felt better and better, stronger and stronger as I went. In fact, for perhaps the first time I actually powered hard up the last third of the mountain, standing up and hammering relentlessly right to the summit. My legs didn't feel heavy or thick or uncooperative. They churned with a strength that usually isn't there on those final 100 yards up to the rocky crest. Allez!

Wachusett Summit looking south toward Worcester

Ride Summary: 27.5 miles (44 K), 14.4 mph, almost two hours total (much of it climbing). 3,050 feet elevation gain. Strava details. Felt thoroughly pumped and strong the whole way.

Road Kill: One garter snake I didn't stop to photograph.

NOTE: Apologies for the rides posted out of sequence (#49 posted before #48), oh well.

Rides # 48: It Was Supposed to Rain and Didn't

Saturday afternoon, May 17th, 4:00
70 degrees

The forecast had been for rain all weekend. Instead, we enjoyed the finest weather we've seen yet this spring. Low humidity, deep blue sky, bright sun, occasional puffy clouds, temperatures in the low to mid 70s, perfect cycling weather.

These are the days of Blooming and the twin cherry trees dazzle in front of Chez Shad as I hoof it past them.

Chez Shad and The Cherry Tree Blooming

I'd intended that ride #48 be a longer affair but the day got away from me and, as I was committed to traveling to Sunderland in the evening to take part in the annual Asparagus Party that a close friend holds each year, I necessarily had to do a shorter ride than hoped for. Nevertheless, I made the most of the 90 some minutes I had by foraying west into the Princeton Hills.

Knowing the ride would be limited in scope, I hammered from the get-go. In the first few miles, my knees felt weird, uncomfortable, like there were little puffy sacs of pain and fluid just below each knee cap. I tried to focus my thoughts and sensation elsewhere. On the long neighborhood hill climb in the first mile of setting out, I tried pay attention to my pedal stroke, to summoning equal effort on all 360 degree positions of each rotation. I also paid attention to my breath.

And then I was through the neighborhood, past the senior citizen center, past Rockwell Pond, and starting into the hills.

In the lemony circle of the Most High

Well-rested, unencumbered by gear or clothing layers, feeling positively alive and tireless, I easily could have headed to the mountain, or extended the ride to 30 or 40 miles but I didn't have the luxury of time. Instead, I powered hard in the time I had. My knees felt fine after a few miles. I practiced deep breathing and imagined the oxygen flowing down my spine, through my glutes, across my archipelagic thighs and infusing the Plain of Hamstring with airy energy.

Ride Summary: 20 miles (32K), 14.1 mph, about 85 minutes or so. I saw an eastern towhee, a striking bird of black, white, and russet. Towhees tend to scratch around in the bracken and the one I saw was doing just that close to the road's edge. Strava ride details.

Road Kill: One dumb dead opossum.

Ride # 49: Riding to Overcome the Asparagus Party Debauchery

Sunday Afternoon, 1:00
Fine Tuning before the Launch

Another awesome weather day. No humidity, bright sun tempered by huge puffy clouds on a deep blue background. Low wind. With the Niceness!

I've been tracking my food intake religiously for over a year (via www.livestrong.com/myplate) and have lost about 22 lbs in 14 months. I've actually reached a certain point of stasis whereby I fluctuate by a few lbs depending on the recent few days of eating/drinking and riding or not riding. Last night at the asparagus party I ate and drank with abandon. Instead of (gulp!) trying to itemize my vast consumption, I just recorded a ballpark number of calories consumed (I went with 2200 given the beer, lamb, jerk chicken, rice & vegetables, corn bread, challah bread pudding, cupcakes, and chocolate peanut butter balls I consumed). This morning I note that I gained two lbs from yesterday, logging in at 148.2 lbs (67 KG).

All the more reason to go BIG.

Today, I manage to leave early enough to have time for a reasonably long ride (though not early enough to do the proverbial 60+ miles ride that every weekend I imagine myself doing). But feeling slightly taxed from last night's indulgences, I am not up for a lot of climbing so eschew the western route and the Princeton Hills and instead head northeast into the semi-rural commuter towns of Lunenburg, Shirley, Groton, Pepperell, Devens. I conceive of the course as I pedal. Part of it, I decide, should take in the Nashua River Rail Trail. I generally avoid community rail trails on nice weekend afternoons because they are busy with weekend bikers, inline skaters, dog walkers, etc., but today it makes sense to incorporate about seven miles of this trail to provide a car-free passage between Pepperell and Ayer and the last leg of the ramble.

Rail Trail Style

Bubble It Dub
In the scruffy town of Ayer

Ride Summary: 40 miles (64 K), 16 mph, 3,062 feet of elevation according to strava (and I thought I was avoiding climbing), two and a half hours a-spin. Lemonstar - Lunenburg - Groton - Shirley - Pepperell - Groton - Devens - Shirley - Lemonstar.

Road Kill: A bad day road kill. I arrived too late to save the big water snake I came upon dead on its back near a culvert.

Water Snake, West Groton

A large fisher buzzed with flies and the stench of decay (it had been dead more than a day for sure).

Fisher, all dignity gone

Finally, I happened upon what I thought was a dead monarch butterfly. However, it turned out to be alive but on its back upside down and struggling mightily. I gave it my finger, it grabbed on and righted itself but when I let it go, it fluttered but couldn't stay aloft. I left it on the road side, off the tarmac at least. But I doubt it lived.

Butterfly that probably didn't live

Ride # 47: Temperature Drop

Tuesday, May 13
4:00 in the afternoon
cold 50s

Yesterday in Cambridge where I went to hear Michael Pollan speak about the importance of cooking food (real food), the temperature in Harvard Sq. was 89 degrees (31 C). Today, setting out on a raw, overcast day in a rancid mist, the temperature was a wretched 52 F. That's a 37 degree drop. I was back in tights and  a fleece top. I tucked a paper bag against my chest. I wore full finger gloves. It was like March all over again.

But ride I did anyway. More hills, more sweet climbing. But there was an air of sullenness about the hills today as if they were happy to wreck the cadence of a cycling enthusiast, as if a momentary lack of focus would result in catastrophe. I paid very close attention and pedaled with force and conviction.

In the end, it was a workman-like foray into the hilly wilds. Felt great. The back and hip have both gotten better. Am still stretching before and after riding, and that continues to help. Allez!

Ride Summary: 23 miles, 14.2 mph, 98 minutos. No fresh road kill. Strava stats.

Parting Shot

Orange Clad Shad

Ride #'s 45 & 46: The Wild Blue Yonder and the Blooming of Spring

The Beginning of Real Spring
Saturday Afternoon 4:30
75 degrees and humid

Ride #45 on Saturday afternoon was, by necessity, a wink and breath, nothing more. 9.8 miles, a quick ride to keep the metabolism firing at a high cadence. There was no time for a real ride. I always held 10 miles as the minimum requirement to qualify as a numbered ride so I lump Saturday's by-necessity quick 9.8 time trial up to Sholan Farms and back into the two overall weekend rides. One was brief, the other massive.

Late Saturday before the imminent arrival of dinner guests, I undertook the Brief Sprint for Metabolism Enervation, an insistent dash to Sholan Farm when prudence suggested that I should not. I flew in the shadow of thunder gods, clouds of plentiful ire. It was fantastic.

In the Ire of Thor Hushovd, the God of Thunder

Sunday was something else entirely. Ride #46, early afternoon, the day an absolute gem of a Sunday in May. The quintessential Mother's Day. Total blue sky. A deep, rich blue. NO clouds. Consequently, completely sunny. The Unadulterated Sun of Plenty. And warm! 80 degrees. Vast.

Vast

I wanted to go BIG today, do either a lot of miles or a lot of climbing. It turned out to be climbing, 3100 feet (according to my strava reading), a three hour ramble that took in the Drumlin in Lancaster, a hefty stretch of rt 62 in Princeton, a determined grind on Mountain Rd, the Summit Rd climb, and Upper Justice Hill Rd on the way back to Chez Shad.

Ended up with a fantastic day in the saddle on the best weather day of the year. A Vitamin D debauch. I yearned to absorb the light and the air as I zipped through it at 20 mph. I was a blur, a hurtling succulent sluicing in every sunbeam and every wind gust that exploded around the mountain and crashed into me. Wind! Light! Air! The planet!

And birds. A raven, a robin, a red-winged black bird. A red tail hawk. Innumerable small sparrows a-flutter from road side to shrub.

The sun boomed. The wind gusted.

Today's meandering path to the mountain top took me past Sholan Farms and then south to Lancaster for a Drumlin drive-by, then across the wide Davis Farm Stand flats to the center of Sterling. Out the other side quickly and a meditative if arduous march upwards in the general direction of The Mountain (the quarry) on roads relatively new to me. At one point I rode a ways on the narrow and cracked tarmac of Redemption Rock Trail and then logged several miles on equally narrow and dicey rt. 62. Those are the sinewy & dangerous tendons that stitch together fantastic meanders like today's. You undertake them with an equanimity of spirit and pedal with tenacity and a concern for the Most High.

Then it was The Mountain. Mont Vontusett. The Wachusett. The coup de climb. The gates still closed so no motor vehicles. Pavement smooth and clean. A joy of an ascent.

Summit

I achieved the hat trick. Thrice in a week I spun my wheels on Wachusett's rocky dome. Which is telling. Making a direct foray to the top of Wachusett, a 27 mile round trip ride, used to be a killer. Now? Today I finished with 42 miles and though I definitely felt like I did a huge ride, I didn't feel sapped of energy or bodily beaten down; I felt tired in a good way. I was hungry. And very much alive.

In the Great Blue Yonder

Ride Summary: 42.44 miles (67 K), 14.3 mph, a whisper shy of three hours astraddle. Windy! Plenty of head winds made several stretches additionally challenging. Great views from Wachusett. Clear air, not too humid. Mt. Monadnock clear and looming to the north.

Road Kill: Snakepocalypse. Three snakes today. The first one I came upon must have been killed within the hour; I was that close to saving it. The second and third were slain just a few feet apart at Bartlett Pond Brook on Hobbs Rd. Ugly business.

Snake # 1, a garter snake

Snake # 2, a water snake

Snake # 3, another garter snake

Parting Shot

Shad rides but Nature calls

Ride # 44: Lemonstar Wachusett Loop Style

Backyard 
Thursday 4:00 PM
75 degrees

I Shad and the honey cherry tree halo

The Goal
Mt Wachusett on the horizon

On the way to the top

Summit Style

Ride Summary: 31.3 miles (49 K), 13.4 mph, two hours and change of hard climbing. 3,285 feet.

Finally, a warm day! 75 degrees (23 C) at departure. Shorts and short sleeves and it felt great. I felt great. Strong, loose, energized, light on the bike. InI offer thanks and praises to the Most High! Climbing was a joy. Ride to Climb as the imaginary bumper sticker in my mind reads. My cycling mantra.

I didn't see any road kill today. But I did see (or hear) cardinals, crows, a red tail hawk, some Canada geese, a mockingbird, some red-winged black birds.

My Strava data for today's ride.