Sunday mornings often find me on Clark Street, and subsequently taking a ride through Keney Park. It's a nice way to clear my head. I lost a cousin in a motorcycle accident this past week, so I was especially appreciative of this morning's brisk ride. I didn't see another person inside the park, which made it all the more peaceful and reflective. This was just what I needed. The weather was bright and beautiful, more picturesque than my last overcast trip down this particular path.
The snow on the path was crunchy and compacted, well-suited to the smooth and relatively skinny 40+ year old tires on my Robin Hood. I know I really ought to change them, but nobody makes a red line tire in the 650A size. They complement the patina of my stately Nottingham beater so nicely as it is. The age cracking adds grip.
Be well, ride safe.