if I could infuse your home with all that good smell

I would. It would be quietly floral, and mildly overpowering.



One foot in front of the other. My quads were akilling me yesterday. Left over lactic acid from Monday's fiasco fixed ride. No stretching (like a eedjit) and no tennis ball rolling...got to wake up pre-tty early in the mornin to feel stiffer than this guy. And the quad soreness was a bad mojo on account of the plan for Wednesday.

Which involved a reet repeat of the large-ish cross loop in Santa Cruz, revised to include skipped portions and missed turns and such. Including but not limited to paying for water at the Summit Store?!? because the mid-store sink is "disconnected" and -NO.
"Huh. Well, can y'all fill my bottles for me in the deli prep area?"
NO
"Is there a bathroom I can use?"
NO there's port potties in the lot.
"Is there a spigot outside?"
NO the closest is at the school for which you need a key.
"I guess I'm buying water then."
grumble grumble
Because apparently they have to haul the water up and nothing is free. All this in spite of the fact that I always purchase something there (typically at least 1 tallboy) and had, in fact, already spent money during that very visit....
NO

Just, you know, so YOU know. Make sure you bring money to pay The Man.

So, as a fat washed up loser, I took it to the streets. The mean fire road of Nisene Marks to be precise. Looked full of people, like a bust type scenario, yo. So road it was and the road is good there. On the hill it was that delicious feeling of knowing the day is HOT out from under these refreshingly dank redwoods and if I weren't almost cold from the rush of my speed and the delightful shade...why then I'd be heavy sweating and seeing purple spots.



Then it was making the correct decision and staying ridgeline through Demo, although Tractor Trail is fairly steep and rocky and kitty littered it's ownself. Should I be taking Braille Trail? You know, with the cross bike and all? Whatever. It is fun and swoopy.




Familiar climbing gentle grades to the rip off spot, er, Summit Store. Then the climb on Summit, which I'd been thinking about/dreading since I'd first felt my crampable, twingey quads earlier...and which really wasn't so bad. Aside from the flat.



And what a flat curse I am under these days. My tube was pinholed at the base of the valve stem; figured I'd patch it just in case (in case such a screwball patch job could work) because that's always a Fair Idea and SOP. My spare was pinholed 6mm away from the valve stem, so of course I misplaced the first patch , and it leaked. Patch again, and it held. What a relief. Down to a prayer and one patch left.

On and on with no beers(!) and no stopping(!) to that one road, this shot has such a nice feel of leaving the sun and entering the shady one lanedness



Finally got some photos of the silo house. This place is so cool.

...then down to Bean Creek, Blue Bonnet, Lockewood, cross the street and make all the right moves following sinuously quick sandy (yet predictable) trails. Perfect alignment of pitch, rhthym, and pace. That feels good. Then my "knowledge" fell apart at the RR area, on account of there are several tracks, and which one is the right one? Found a way, found the way, and then it was time to cross 9 and head up UCON.

At the top of it all there was a gathering of Wednseday Riders, and (strangely) some guy on a ladder in the middle of a field. Turns out the ladder guy was shooting a Giant catalog. So we hung around and drank beers while watching some 8year old lay down skids and ride back and forth in a beautifully lit golden field on a shiny shiny new bike. Hope he got to keep it. The more the beers that went down, the more the heckling volume and intensity that went up. A gentle mocking resulted finally in the foolish photogs allowing us to take the time trial bike for a brief spin on the singletrack. An amazingly poor decision on everyone's part which was fueled by feeding the Giant staff some beers. Denver( I just met him and liked him)'s Dad "couldn't" ride himself anymore, but just wanted to contribute how he could. How could he? By driving up an 18pack on ice. That's a nice contribution.



Finally, a little more downhill which we handled like tipsy Ewoks. Taqueria, streets, homeward bound. 50ish miles? Some climbing.



I'm going to have to find suitable doll, some feathers, a little barbed wire and several old inner tubes. Perhaps a small voodoo pyre will rid me of my flat curse. Hey! Maybe I should ride with one of y'all...see if it rubs off.
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Maybe the Full Strawberry Moon should be ridden under on Saturday evening? Who has thoughts or hidden knowledge? Somebody. Anybody.