Surely this is the end of the biking season for me. Once the ground freezes, I lose interest in speeding to work along the lake path. It's slated to freeze soon.
And so it is unfortunate that after leaving PT, I feel the drag that comes from a flat tire.
Threadbare – the man at the bike shop tells me (how lovely that I should go flat just a quarter of a mile from a bike place). Your tires. You need new ones.
He’s right. I've ridden on these tires for nearly five years now. But who installs new tires just before wheeling the machine to its winter resting place in the garage?
And yes, tomorrow we’re getting that favorite stuff that comes in transitional months here – a seasonal mix. They don’t mean of music and spices. They mean of snow and rain.
So what: it's been a grand ride! The poor weather comes in on November 13th... My tire explodes at the end of it all, during an unhurried and inconsequential ride back home after the PT... Who can complain??
... and so I spin (after the tire change) -- through Owen Woods, just for a little pick me up before hitting the books and papers waiting at home.