without ceremony or sentiment

I roll through the doors of the big bike shop on my cross bike, having smiled my way to work, and mention my route to the other other mechanic. He's into car-supported laps down the hill behind us. I'm not into that. I say how I rode up the trails over there, and down the road over here- he says it would be fun to ride the trails down over there (says it likes he thinks I'm blind) but it's stupid to ride up them. I think he misses the point. I think it would be fun to ride the funnest possible route to do what one gotta do to get where one is going for one to get where one need to be at, and starting at the bottom of those trails precludes riding down them. At least until the return commute trip, which is how it went. The truth? It was fun both ways.

And that is the real magicality of a cross bike. So much is on the table in terms of fun.

Hell(a) yeah, West coaster.