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Today wasn't as warm as it was Thursday, but it was quite a dandy for a ride. Decked out in lycra, lycra and more lycra, I made a great Pearl Izumi fashion statement. I was sporting my new Giro helmet with rock-shock (supposed to stay fixed on your head in a crash), booties to keep my toes warm, polypro shirt, vest, and long insulated cycling shirt. Bostwick still holds credibility as a horrible-hill-that-begins-with "B". Climbing still isn't like the good-ol-days, and I'm using my 26 tooth rear climbing gear to get me up most of them. By summer, I always question myself why the heck I have it in the first place. But, machoism has no memory. I headed to Trumansburg, and into our favorite general store for a piece of apple pie and coffee. The waitress was wearing shamrock earings, and everyone in town appeared at some time or another to wish her a happy birthday. I thought I was the only lycra-clad jock in the store until a scraggly mountain biker came in to purchase a coffee and New York Times. He looked a bit beaten up from slipping on the ice and slush and half-frozen muck. You don't have to ask me why I prefer to take my chances with 18 wheelers than with rocks and stumps. Philip Davis |
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