This past Friday, with his hibernation completed, Peter came out of his den to join Brendan, Dario, and me for a Friday jaunt. With the elder statesman and his road bike along, the Snails avoided their typical magnetic attraction to water, even escaping the CT river valley completely with a foray over the Metacomet ridge.
high and dry above Tariffville Gorge.
Unfamiliar with these surroundings, we even broke into a strangely quick pace, sprinting for town line signs, as Peter tried to trick Brendan into sweating through his cotton T before the cool ride home. Despite his absence, Peter has lost none of his playful cruel cunning, although I believe Brendan did survive the test despite some mighty pink arms and hands at the end.
Almost entirely unrelated:
Brendan may stake claim to the world's best panniers,
But I doubt their up to transporting frame boxes.
My backpack, a frame box, two trash bags, a swatch of hi-vis orange and I
made a rainy trip to the post office this past week.
1 comment:
I recognize that abandoned curve in the road. That crumbly cliff is enough to put a smile on the grouchiest mug.
Wish I'd been there with you Snails, but I'm just a slug.
On that last photo, Salem, that is a lot to lug.
Post a Comment