With everything that went wrong, it all culminated in keeping us off the bikes. That wasn't a physical hardship for me as I was in absolutely no condition to ride. I guess it wasn't a mental hardship for the same reason. :-)
My second weekend alone and feeling better I forced myself to the bike. I hadn't a clue where to go though.
One of our riding clubs was venturing out to Cloudland Canyon. I knew I was not up for the distance but figured I could at least meet up with them, ride towards the mountains a little ways, then split off and cover the East as they covered the West.
Without verifying kickstand up time I thought I remembered something about 9:30 and hoped I had the location correct. I pulled into the lot at 9:27. No bikes. This group is NEVER on time. I guess I had the wrong location.
Now where? I looked to the North, thinking I could go ahead with my plans. The thick, dark gray clouds coming South made me a little skeptical. Instead I headed towards home hoping to figure someplace out before then. I decide to just head up I-985 and see where it leads. After a boring trip on interstates any old off-ramp is looking good. I pick one and just head south, figuring I would keep going until I hit I-85 then head back home.
It was an unbelievably boring 141 miles, mostly interstates. I guess the brain was still fuzzy enough to not come up with anything unique or interesting. I apparently couldn't even be bothered to stop, stretch the legs, get a drink or snack... So I finally get on the bike after more then a month and see absolutely nothing and go absolutely nowhere.
Stats:
141 miles of nothing
But it was pleasant and nice to be on the bike
