Got up early, did about 3 hours office work, then took off around 9 AM for the hills on my new mountain bike. I swear, this thing is like a motorcycle, a joy to ride. First stop was a pond of my acquaintance, brimming with recent rains. I stripped down and swam underwater to the water lilies, floated there for a few seconds. Cold, maybe 52-53°. Got out recharged, as always happens: when you get in cold water, your body goes into circulatory overdrive when you get out.
Got to this impenetrable trail closure. (I’d already had to lift my bike over fallen logs a bunch of times.) Hadn’t been on this trail for years. It used to be clear all the way down to the paved road. I dragged my bike into the woods on both sides, looking for a way through — no luck. It’s rare that a decent trail gets closed down like this. Deer, coyotes, etc. will usually make a way around it. I had to backtrack, phew, by now tired.
From years of training in the 80s-90s, I remembered an alternate route. Otherwise it was going to an extra 10 or so miles, part of it down a trail with flapping nettles. Here’s the entrance, and what used to be a clear shot turned out to involve hauling my bike through thick brush at times, including poison oak, for a couple of miles.
I was really tired, but felt good. Had a chicken sandwich on home-baked bun, and miners’ lettuce salad.
And now I gotta get to work. The tiny homes book — whew! It is cookin! Everyone is on board. Some new pages from last week are spectacular.