It began with what was meant as a short detour on the way home from Colt Park -- a jaunt along the paved Riverside path.
But Saturday was the first time this summer that we were not faced with disgusting humidity, 85+ temperatures, or some crazy hail-tornado-thunderstorm-Armageddon warning. Instead of turning back when the pavement ended, we kept going on the path between the Connecticut River and the flood barrier.
Every single time I have ridden past the paved part of the path, I have encountered less than optimum riding conditions -- ice, mud, and most recently, sand. Starry Starry Bike would be awesome for these rides, but for some reason, I am always finding myself here on a bike that lacks awesome knobby tires.
Still, it's quiet. As Interstatement reminded me while I was kvetching about the precarious ride, we had not seen any pesky baby carriages in some time. Nothing makes me happier than being away from screaming babies and their often smug, entitled parents, as one is wont to be subjected to in the disputed territories.
A deer jumped across the trail. We did not encounter anyone once we reached the sandy part of the path, though we could hear the whining of dirt bikes across the Connecticut River.
The path dumped us out somewhere near the highway, a dike, and a giant billboard advertising pizza, which is basically torture when there are no decent pizza joints in that neighborhood. We rode alongside the tracks for a bit before finally finding ourselves back on the pavement, cutting through Keney Park, and then heading home.
*Somewhere along this route, I believe, is where I picked up a case of poisonivy. I won't post pictures of that.