Didn’t I point out the splendiferous hues of autumn yesterday?
Because the seasons change the fo–LOOK OUT, JORTS COMING THROUGH!
It’s the brand new “In your left.”
Jarring, isn’t it?
Oh, and would you take a look at that, I bought a brand new bag!
See that? I didn’t must resort to the Electrical Techno-Paranoia in any case:
The bag is “out of inventory,” however while you’re me nothing is out of inventory:
Let’s simply say I’ve bought connections within the Waxed Canvas Mafia.
See, you’ve bought your Common Mafia:
Your Velvet Mafia:
And your Waxed Canvas Mafia:
I most likely shouldn’t say any extra otherwise you’re liable to search out me chopped up and stuffed right into a HappiSack:
[Photo: The Waxed Canvas Mafia]
In the event you see a type of bouncing alongside on the OCA with a single foot hanging out of it you’ll comprehend it’s me inside:
As for my new bag, it might be too small to hide a physique, however It’s precisely what I would like–simply sufficiently big for snacks, gloves, and that form of factor:
Or perhaps a e book and a few toys once I’m taking youngsters to the park on Columbus Unmentionable Day:
And sure, that e book does comprise biking references:
After all the constable would have been fantastic if he had been driving a Rivendell, a motorbike so secure even a Scottie couldn’t knock you off it:
My infatuation with this bike stays as exuberant because the foliage, and it’s at dwelling on every part from clean roads:
To terrain of about this diploma of roughness:
So do you name this a “path?” Or is it technically a gravel street surfaced with extraordinarily giant gravel?
Both approach, something past that on the Roaduno and I assume you’re doing what these spoiled Gen-Zers immediately name “underbiking.”
Talking of so-called underbiking, chances are you’ll recall I did some in Vermont on the Roaduno’s polar reverse, George Plimpton’s Y-Foil, a.ok.a. The Charity Trip Destroyer, a.ok.a. The Pumpkin Spice Nightmare:
Within the feedback on yesterday’s put up, which addressed the topic of yielding, there was some dialogue of gravel roads and large vehicles. As an inveterate city-slicker, once I discover myself on a gravel street, I in fact simply assume it exists fully for the sake of quaintness, and that I can rely on it being comparatively motor vehicle-free as a bonus:
“Wow, take a look at all that pristine gravel!,” I assumed to myself. “And no one else is even driving on it!” However what I quickly realized is that not all gravel roads are created equal, and that a few of them are closely utilized by farmers. Furthermore, one of many gravel roads I selected was simply such a thoroughfare:
Whereas the drivers exhibited no outward hostility, I’m positive they had been considering to themselves, “What’s this asshole doing?” Anyway, all of that is to say I duly moved apart and dismounted when obligatory, although looking back I most likely ought to have made a video and ranted about how rural roads want extra protected bike lanes. Regardless, I made it to the ferry alive and intact:
And I didn’t even must squeeze a boob!
Which will or is probably not a win, relying on the way you take a look at it.
