At one point, John swore he saw single-track (he was friggen’ delirious from sucking wind going up hill), and took off riding after it and immediately (yet ever so slowly), plunged over his handle bars. (Hit a hidden rock in the grass he did!) Well, he got up laughing (way to cope with stress and relief he wasn’t injured), and upon getting up, saw a scale for weighing big meat. We didn’t have any big meat. So, Jeff thought it’d be a good idea to see how the bikes weighed in on the matter.
We took a couple of improper turns today. One went downward for about 2 miles appearing very hopeful. Nope, it dead-ended. Up once more. Pound-for-pound a great conditioning ride!