Kelly and I met for a ride, and we pedaled through the beautiful rolling green countryside of Colts Neck. Think: farms, horses, and land of amazing apple pies. The sky was a deep shade of blue, with puffy white cotton ball clouds. The wild flowers are blooming, and the scent of pine was in the air. Ahh, spring has sprung.
As I tucked down low and brought my chin close to my handlebars on a downhill, I thought to myself that I wished I was on a road bike going faster; I was already going 30 mph on my nearly 35 lb steel horse. For most of the ride, I managed to keep up with Kelly, who was riding a road bike that's probably 15 lbs lighter than mine. Oh, AND she's a hardcore athlete, training for her second triathlon. Yep, I'd like to think I'm on pace with someone who is rough and tough. I did, however, get dropped on a bunch of uphills.
I love my bike. I love my new pedals. I love that I can push it fast(ish), even though it's heavy. I love that it can carry everything I need to live. There's nothing I don't love about my bike. But today's ride had me craving more. I can now see myself on a road bike, zipping along at fast clip, bombing up and down hills. My next bike will be a road bike.
According to Kelly's computer, we rode 36 miles, and according to mine, we rode 37. Thirty seven sounds way more badass, so I'm going with that number.
Showing off our fire arms in a restricted area
And quite literally, a fire arm. Let the cycling tan begin! (It hurts like hell, by the way)
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