There was some river trail. Some cobbles, tunnels, and alleyways in the Exchange. Some new bikeways. And a lot of meandering around. We started with a decent sized group and it grew as we rode. First RPM Clark. And then the Secretary.
The President was in attendance. That is two weeks in a row. Can he make it three?
KK's run of bad luck continued. He flatted on Wellington, just shy of the klubhaus.
Hal, Ian, and the Phanatic were warming the seats for us when we arrived. The latter without even being coaxed out. We filled the main table. This is good for The Book.
Over at the south end of the table, The President spent some time outlining the history of the FGBC for some of the new associates among us. JP was concerned with fine lines and how to identify them. Where does analog end and digital begin, he asked. And later he sought the advice of the medical practitioners around the table to help him determine the boundary between pneumonia and the mere coughing up of cats. Such a deep thinker, that guy. And, of course, we spent some time dreaming about future cx races and how to make them bigger and better.
The tunes started out good. It's hard to go wrong with Crazy Train. And then they went bad. But a coordinated craning of some necks was sufficient to have things restored. It is that sort of attentiveness to our needs that keeps us coming back week after week.
No comments:
Post a Comment