flats, shoot the pilot, cold spell,
a 20 year old Cherokee, and wash the cat
a 20 year old Cherokee, and wash the cat
Only had 56 days with electric hookups this winter. I wouldn’t have minded a few more days during the cold spell earlier in the month though. Had a really good ride one day on my Gary Fisher. Had so much energy I felt like finding a phone booth and making like the man. No phone booths though. So I continued on and eventually started to slow down as I got tired and finished up at a much more subdued ‘Clark Kent’ pace. Guano. Another day I, once again, fell off my bike. I ended up on my back and rolled onto my butt. When I got back to camp and went to change clothes, I patted my back pockets to see if I had anything in them. Can you make a guess here? Yep, there were prickles on my butt pockets. These then transferred to my hands. I hate riding in the desert. One day I rode a few miles on a double track where apparently all kinds of burrs had settled. When I got back to camp I brushed off all the spiky things I could find. Didn’t help. After a bit I looked at the bike and both tires w